


Intervention

by Shepherd23



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anti-Charmings, Anti-Hook, Anti-Zelena, CS is never endgame, Canon Divergent, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Gen, Gold/Charming Family Feud, Implied/Referenced Abuse, No Evil Queen, OQ-hopeful, Or I laugh at canon, Robin is alive because reasons, Rumbelle is hopeful, alternate season 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 95,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8163475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shepherd23/pseuds/Shepherd23
Summary: After returning from the Land of Untold Stories, Belle and Rumple went their separate ways for a short time. They may have never reconciled, if not for the intervention of their daughter, and received a much-needed warning of the battle to come.(This became much more convoluted than I intended: now it's become the Gold-Charming family feud that we should've gotten)





	1. Part I

Since waking from the sleeping curse, Belle had been plagued with nightmares. Not just of the fire room, which Henry had told her was perfectly normal, but of the Dark Castle, the Ogre War, the asylum, the Dark One’s Vault. Every moment of her life where something had gone wrong, and she had been powerless to stop it, replayed over and over like a gramophone record. And she couldn’t find the stop button.

Late at night, she paced her room at Granny’s, sometimes trying to sleep, or read, or looking out the window most assuredly _not_ in the direction of Rumple’s shop. No matter what she did she could not distract herself from their last conversation. The last time they had gone their separate ways. The last time she had left.

She had tried to justify her actions in retrospect; she had been terrified, emotional, just woken from a _sleeping curse_ by a man who claimed to be her unborn son. It had been a lot of information to receive inside of three days and she didn’t really think she could be blamed for wanting some time to absorb all of it. But the bottom line was that she had panicked, made a split-second decision (as she always did) and now they were both paying the price.

Rumple hadn’t tried to reach out to her since coming back to Storybrooke. That wasn’t surprising, as he had never been the type to insert himself into her life uninvited. She didn’t expect him to change that just because they were expecting a baby. But now she wished that he would. It would make things so much easier.

The old cassette tape that David had delivered sat on her nightstand, an invite, a pleading call. Rumple’s thick brogue played over in her mind, that beautiful verse. That was all he had wanted, just for his child to know his voice … even after everything that their son had done … after everything _she_ had done …

Belle knew very well that if she wanted to talk to him, all she had to do was pick up the phone. Or walk across the street to the pawnshop.

But she just couldn’t make herself do it.

So much for heroics.

Somewhere in the garden, an owl hooted. Belle sighed. It was late. She walked over to the dresser and picked up the prescription Doc had written for her after Granny had all but dragged her to the hospital when she confessed to her sleep problem. A mild sedative that would allow her to sleep and wouldn’t harm the baby. She had put off taking it – twenty-eight years of endless needles and pills had made her more than a little wary of drugs in general – but she knew she needed to sleep. If not for her sake, then for her son’s.

She downed the pill with a gulp of water, lay on the bed and refused to think of a warm body curled up around her back as sleep overtook her.

* * *

 

She was back in the Dark Castle again, but this time it was how it had been right before she left. The curtains were down, sunlight flooded the hall and a pot of tea lay on the table, as if it were waiting to serve its master and his lady. Rumple’s spinning wheel creaked as it spun of its own accord, turning countless bundles of straw into spools of gold. A dove landed on the open windowsill, cooing and fluffing his feathers after a long flight. Belle looked down at herself. She was a maid once again.

It was good to be home, however unreal it may be.

“Hi, Mum.”

She started, all breath leaving her as she jumped and turned around to face her dream’s invader. Then she shook her head. This couldn’t be right.

The person in front of her was not the same one who had appeared to her in the curse. For one thing, it was a woman, maybe a little younger than Belle and very, very familiar. She had the same shaped face, same shade of chestnut hair, same nervous way of holding her hands in front of her. Belle could have sworn she was looking in a mirror if the woman had not been barefoot and wearing a simple, light green dress that had mud caking the hem. A twig stuck out of her hair, which was tucked behind one ear and, apart from the long fringe falling across her face, held back by a plain black headband. Then she smiled, and all Belle could see was Rumple.

Especially in her eyes, which were _exactly_ the same shade of brown.

She had called Belle ‘Mum’. But that couldn’t be right. Belle’s child was a _boy._

“Wha – what?” Belle stammered. “Who are you?”

“I’m your daughter,” said the apparition. “I’m hardly going to call some random woman ‘Mum’, am I?”

“No. No, you’re not my daughter. I’m having a boy, not a girl.”

“Partially true. Sorry about my brother’s antics under the curse. He seems to have got it into his head – well, what _will be_ his head – that Dad is … well, the Antichrist, basically. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know. I would’ve popped up earlier, but it seems like we’re able to sort of – suppress each other, I guess. That’s why he’s not here right now.”

The shoe dropped and Belle started. “I’m – I’m having twins?”

The apparition nodded. “Sorry to break it to you like this.”

“Oh, God. I need to –” Belle fumbled with the chair, pulling it out before her legs gave way beneath her. “Wait. How – how can you be here?”

“I think it’s a side effect of the sleeping curse. My brother and I seem to be able to access your unconscious mind while you’re asleep,” said her daughter as she pulled out the chair opposite Belle and sat down. “I mean, we don’t go in there all the time. Only now, and when my brother woke you up. That’d be – oh, God. The truth be told, I really have no idea how we’re able to do this. I just needed to talk to you and – _poof_ – here I am.”

“What’s your name?” Belle asked. Her daughter shrugged.

“I don’t know. You and Dad haven’t given me one.”

“But your brother, he has one –”

“No, he doesn’t,” her daughter said, shaking her head. “He said he was Morpheus to get Dad to trust him. Like I said, he’s got some misguided preconceptions where Dad’s concerned.”

Belle chuckled. “But you don’t?”

“I’ve been paying closer attention.”

“How?”

Again, her daughter shrugged. “Magic.” Belle glared, knowing there had to be a better answer. Her daughter held up both hands in surrender. “Mum, I swear that’s all I know. I mean, at the moment all I really am is a blob of congealed jelly. I don’t even have a body, let alone a brain. That’s not exactly conducive to deductive reasoning.”

“True,” Belle agreed with a laugh. “So … why are you here?”

“To fix what my brother screwed up,” she said. “To get you and Dad to talk to each other.”

 _Ah_ , Belle thought, rubbing her forehead. These two were already a handful, and they had only existed for a month and a half. “You know about that?”

Her daughter nodded. “You’re not happy, Mum. I can feel it. Why won’t you just talk to him?”

“It’s complicated, sweetheart –”

“That’s just an excuse,” her daughter whinged. “You want to talk to him, I know you do.”

“Your brother warned me –”

“My brother is a half-brained twit. Or, you know, he would be if he had half of a brain.” Her daughter gave a half-hearted laugh, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Belle couldn’t help but think it was a little unfair that they had two children, and _both_ of them looked so much like their father. She had contributed too! “Look, we haven’t exactly had the most positive experiences since we’ve been alive. The whole contract thing, then the sleeping curse – which, by the way, why did you go to _Zelena_ , of all people? She _killed_ Bae!”

Belle stumbled on her words, a half-formed reason about how she had hoped Zelena would understand her predicament, as a mother herself. Under her daughter’s steely glare – okay, so maybe her child had got something from her after all – it just didn’t seem good enough. “I was desperate,” she said finally after a few seconds where the only sound was the spinning wheel creaking. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“It’s okay. You only put yourself under the curse, not us. We would have been born whether you woke up or not.”

“Oh.” Belle bit her lip, now realising with hindsight what a terrible plan that had been. “I’m still sorry I did that to you.”

Her daughter nodded. “Just, _please_ tell me that we don’t have to go on play-dates with her. She gives me the creeps. My brother, too. It’s just about the only thing we agree on.”

“Don’t worry,” Belle assured her, fighting down a sudden wave of nausea. “Your father would never agree to it, and would probably kill Zelena if she came within a mile of either of you.”

“Good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a touch of morning sickness.” _Which was not confined to mornings, despite the name._

Her daughter grimaced. “Sorry.”

Belle burst out laughing, and after a moment her daughter did too. When it had subsided, and Belle regained control of her stomach, her daughter took a deep breath and asked again, “Why won’t you just talk to Dad?”

“Because I’m scared,” Belle admitted in a small voice. “I’m scared that your father will never let go of the darkness. He’s a good man, underneath it all. I just wish he could see it for himself. I know the lengths he would go to for his family, and that’s what worries me. How can I teach my child right from wrong when its father would murder someone just for looking at them the wrong way? How can I protect you when the darkness takes over? How do I know that the darkness won’t stain your souls from the moment you enter the world?”

Her daughter bit her lip. “But that’s not what you’re really frightened of. Is it?”

Belle sighed. This was such a strange dream. She shut her eyes, and gave voice to the fear that had driven her to such rash action. “From day one, Rumple’s enemies have used those he cares about in order to get to him. I can’t – I can’t let them hurt him like that anymore. Not because of me.” She faced her daughter’s wide eyes, begging her to recognise the gravity of the situation. “Don’t you understand? Us being together has only ever caused heartbreak, to _both_ of us. When I try to protect him, it only makes things worse. People get _hurt._ This is the only way I can stop that from happening.”

“Mum –”

“What if we lose you?” Belle continued quickly before she could swallow the terrifying thought back to the depths of her heart. “What if what happened to Baelfire happens to you too? I _can’t_ go through that again. Neither can your father. I won’t put you in danger.”

Her daughter leant forwards, a serious look on her face. “Mum, we are in danger. We’re in danger just by virtue of existing. That’s part of being alive. I know you think you can’t protect us, but that’s not true. You and Dad can … but neither of you can do it alone.”

Belle sniffled and tried to wipe away her tears without her daughter noticing. It didn’t work, and she soon felt her daughter’s hand fall over hers.

“I just don’t want to come into a world where my parents won’t work things out,” said her daughter, brown eyes wide and pleading. _Just like her papa._ “Please? You don’t have to be together if that’s not what you want. Just tell me that you’ll talk to him?”

Wiping her face on her sleeve, Belle let out a small chuckle. “You sound like your nephew.”

“My nephew?”

“Bae’s son. His name is Henry.” Belle took a deep breath and squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Alright. I promise. I’ll talk to him, and we’ll try to work things out.”

“Okay,” said her daughter, squeezing her hand back. “You should go. It’s morning.”

“Already?” Belle looked around, seeing no change to the degree of sunlight pouring through the Dark Castle’s windows.

“Time passes differently in dreams,” her daughter explained, letting go of her hand. “Can you do me one more favour?”

“Sure. Anything.”

“Tell Dad I love him,” she said. “I think he needs to hear that after what my brother tried to do.”

“Okay,” Belle agreed. She was right; Rumple definitely needed to hear something like that. “I’ll see you soon, Gabrielle.”

Her daughter frowned in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Gabrielle,” Belle repeated. “That’s your name. I just thought of it.”

“Oh.” Gabrielle mouthed her name a few times, then smiled. “That’s good. I like it.”

Belle nodded. “What about your brother?”

“I’ll knock some sense into him,” Gabrielle told her with a look Belle knew all too well, having seen Rumple craft many a plot in his time. “I mean, after I’ve got some limbs to do it with.”

“Nothing too violent, okay? I don’t know how much fighting my kidneys can take.”

Gabrielle chuckled. “No promises, Mum.”

* * *

 

Belle woke to the early-morning sunshine and the sounds of sparrows flocking in the gardens. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling stiff and more than a little nauseous. Lying still, she rubbed circles on her belly, then rolled over and reached for her phone.

Rumple answered on the first ring. She wondered if he had slept at all, and tried not to be put off by his forced indifference when she asked him to meet her at Granny’s. It was better than she had deserved, after what she had said to him.

They had both hurt the other, yes, and done and said things that should not have been done or said. But maybe, True Love would win out after all, if they – _both_ of them – could just find the courage to fight for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II: Belle and Rumple talk. We'll see how it goes


	2. Part II

Granny gave her the use of the lounge area behind the diner on the condition that Belle left the door open and shouted the instant anything went wrong. Belle tried to assure the old woman that it wouldn’t come to that but Granny refused to budge. So, with the sounds of the kitchen reverberating off the walls and the clock ticking away on the mantelpiece, Belle paced the small room and waited. She couldn’t seem to sit still, switching from the armchair to the sofa to the floor like Goldilocks, choking down a mild attack of morning sickness, and kept throwing glances at the clock. They had agreed on eight and it was now a few minutes to –

God, what was she even going to say? Sorry, of course, and to tell him about their daughter – what else? Did they even want to give their marriage another go? In all honesty, Belle couldn’t answer that for herself, let alone what Rumple might say. After what _she_ had done, frankly, he was well within his rights to walk out and never speak to her again – she hoped he wouldn’t, she didn’t want that, with twins to take care of she really needed him _not_ to do that; there was no reason why they couldn’t remain friends and co-parents, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted that either –

“Hey.”

He stood in the entrance with only his hand inside the room, raised to knock gently on the open door. Even his toes were carefully aligned with the ridge of the carpet, keeping his distance. Because he was giving her space – or protecting his own?

Face-to-face with him for the first time in weeks, Belle suddenly couldn’t find her voice. Rumple looked the same as he always had, but she noticed that he had selected a black shirt and tie. Was that supposed to be sending a message of some sort, or was she overthinking things again? She bit down another waves of nausea.

_I don’t want to come into a world where my parents won’t work things out._

 “I – I got your tape,” she blurted, wringing her hands uncertainly. She knew what she had to say, why couldn’t she just say it? “Th-thank you.”

“It’s – it’s no matter,” Rumple murmured, waving a hand in a self-deprecating manner.

“No, it does matter,” Belle insisted. “It matters a lot.”

He gave a small nod. She wrung her hands. They stayed there in silence for a good two minutes, the clock ticking away each second –

“I’m sorry.”

Rumple blinked. “What for?” he murmured, in the gentle manner of someone who genuinely didn’t know the answer.

She took a breath. _I can do this._

“For everything. For leaving without hearing you out; for using the dagger against you; for trying to dictate how you used your magic –”

“Belle, it’s alright –”

“No, it’s not.”

Since talking to her daughter – saying aloud the things she had never admitted to herself, let alone Rumple or anyone else – Belle had done some serious introspective thinking. Yes, they had made a total mess of their marriage – nobody would argue with that – but it wasn’t solely Rumple’s fault. It wasn’t solely Belle’s either, but a combination of errors stemming from the biggest mistake that _both_ of them had made – a failure to be honest with each other.

How many times had she stormed out rather than talking to him when faced with something she didn’t understand or thought he had done wrong? Too many, at her latest count. That wasn’t bravery. That was avoiding the problem. And now that she thought of it, how much of that had fed Rumple’s need to lie and deceive because he thought he couldn’t trust anyone, not even his wife? Yes, he’d kept things from her – she hadn’t forgotten that – but she was at fault too. She knew that Rumple would never force anything on her, and _she_ had been the one who threatened to keep their _baby_ from him. So that meant she had to be the one to take the first step.

“I shouldn’t have walked away,” she murmured, taking a step closer to the door. “I should have heard you out. And I shouldn’t have put conditions on you when it was our child’s life on the line.”

“Oh, Belle …”

Rumple took one step inside the room, and another when she didn’t stop him.

“It’s not your fault –”

“It’s not yours either.”

“I should have told you that I took back the darkness.”

“Yes, you should have,” said Belle. “Just like I should have trusted you to do right by our child regardless.”

He stared, impassive but clearly shocked. A horrible feeling bubbled in her throat.

_You didn’t expect me to apologise, did you?_

The memory of his face at the town line burst into the forefront of her mind, terrified and begging her for a chance. One she hadn’t given.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was … so _angry_. To find out that you had lied to me for the whole of our marriage, and then walk up to you trying to kill Hook, all for the sake of power –”

“It wasn’t just about power,” he interrupted with a small shake of his head, looking down at his hands. “After … after everything Zelena did … and Regina … picking up my dagger in the barn … I had to know what they would do. I’d – I’d hoped that they would let me have my freedom but they didn’t even do that. All I am to them is a monster that needs to be controlled. You were the only one who ever cared.”

“Until I didn’t,” she murmured guiltily.

“I don’t blame you for stopping me. I know you couldn’t be who you are and do any differently. But you have to understand, I – I need the power. Not because it means more to me than you do. It doesn’t. I just – I needed it to find Bae and then I was just … just so scared, too. I was afraid. Afraid of you. Afraid of loving you, and opening up, and then you’d just see me for the coward I really am … and you’d leave. Just like …”

He trailed off, something catching in his throat. Belle finished the thought for him.

“Milah,” she said grimly. She sniffed, and wiped her eyes. _God, what have I done?_ “I always promised myself that I wouldn’t be like her. Until I was.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, quickly closing the gap between them. He tentatively reached out to touch her arm. “I brought it on myself.”

“Not completely. I overreacted. I should have let you explain yourself rather than take my pain out on you. Both at the town line … and then again at the temple. I thought I had to make a stand. I made the wrong one.”

“I pushed you to it.”

“No, just …” Belle sighed, exasperated. “Just stop it, okay? We’re both to blame in this. Can you accept that?”

Once again, something caught in his throat and Rumple made a strange choking noise. Then he nodded. “I guess so.”

She sighed in relief. At least there was that. He raised a hand to her cheek and brushed away a stray tear.

“So …?” he murmured uncertainly.

“So.”

“Where do we stand now?”

She let out a soft chuckle and wiped her face. “I don’t know,” she admitted honestly. “We have to find a way to work together. For their sakes. But as for whether we can make our marriage work …”

“Do you want to try?”

She looked up to meet his eyes, so full of fear and hope …

“Do you?”

“I still love you,” he whispered. “Always have. Even in New York, when I wanted to hate you, I just couldn’t.” He swallowed, his hands coming down to hold hers. “I – I can’t promise that I’ll ever be the man you deserve. But I promise to try. For you and for our son.”

“And our daughter.”

Rumple’s head snapped up so fast that his neck cracked. “What?”

“It’s twins,” Belle said quickly, giving his hands a squeeze while his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “I had a – a visit from our daughter last night. She … knocked a bit of sense into me. Made me realise what an idiot I’ve been lately.”

“Twins?” Rumple murmured. He had clearly not heard anything else she’d said, staring down at her stomach in disbelief. He let go of her hand, seemingly to press it to her belly but stopped himself. “Can – can I?”

She nodded, and he touched her belly, the slight tingle of light magic sending flutters up her spine. A moment later, he gasped.

“We have a daughter?”

“Her name is Gabrielle,” Belle said. “I – I know I should have talked to you first but she asked me and I –”

“It’s perfect,” he whispered. “Little Gabi.”

“She told me to tell you that she loves you,” Belle continued, suddenly feeling the need to tell him everything. “And that she’ll – she’ll knock some sense into her brother, too. Apparently he’s a bit misguided but we’ll – we’ll bring him around.”

“Together,” he said.

“Together.”

Then they both moved at the same time, so the kiss Rumple had probably intended for her forehead landed on her lips. He pulled away quickly but Belle drew him back. A bad idea, but one that – now it had started – she just couldn’t stop. It had been weeks, and then weeks before that, since she had really touched him. God, she had missed this. The feel of his lips on hers was like nectar. He was clinging to her, too, need like the need for air keeping them locked together. Months of heartbreak, separation and anger were poured into that kiss, and finally Belle understood what she wanted. What she had always wanted.

“Upstairs,” she pleaded when they had to separate for breath. “Number four.”

His eyes widened again. “You – you want –”

“Only if you want to.”

He had begun to whisk them away before she had even finished speaking, which answered the question quite nicely.

* * *

 

A part of Rumplestiltskin had become convinced that this was all a dream. There was no way that Belle had actually called _him_ , kissed _him_ and was now back in his arms like nothing had happened –

The darkness screamed inside, telling him that it had to be a trick, that she was just using him, crawling back to him for his power –

But then she kissed him like she was afraid to let go, and it chased the fear away.

He could do this. He could be honest with her. True, neither of them was perfect, and one conversation was not going to fix everything that had happened, but it could be a start. They just had to be willing to put everything on the table, out in the open, so that they could work on it _together_ –

Gods, did he want to make it work.

Somehow, some way, just the simple acknowledgement that they had broken each other’s hearts – not to mention the ever-present knowledge that they were going to have a _baby_ ( _twins!_ ) in a little under eight months – had put them on the road to reconciliation. As much as he wanted to jump back into their marriage and act as if nothing had happened, Rumplestiltskin knew they had a long way to go. He – well, both of them, but particularly him – needed to learn from his mistakes – and Belle from hers – if they wanted to make this work.

But they could do that later. The moment his magic had deposited them upstairs – in what he was fairly sure was the right room – she had dragged him backwards by the tie until the bed hit her knees and they’d collapsed onto the mattress. Not a single logical thought made it through Rumplestiltskin’s mind at all, too wrapped up as it was in the fact that she was actually there, she was giving him a _chance_ … that she was trying to divest him of his jacket –

“Too many layers,” she complained breathlessly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered back. “I never stopped.”

She finally forced his jacket off his shoulders. He shrugged it off, threw it into a corner of the room and then attacked her sweater as she started work on his shirt buttons. A whimper escaped her throat as he pulled the infernal garment over her head and then started trailing kisses down her body, stopping to hover over her bare belly –

“Naptime, wee ones,” he murmured, nuzzling the spot under which their babies were growing. A simple revealing charm had confirmed the story – they really were having two children – and even without his Sight, he already knew that they would become incredibly powerful magicians. There were a million and one things he desperately wanted to know – like how was Gabi able to talk to her mother? Why didn’t she hate him like her brother did? What did she look like, how did she sound, what colour were her eyes –

But it could wait. They had time, and by gods, he wasn’t going to squander it.

* * *

 

Quite some time later, they lay together in tangled bedsheets, breath slowly returning as Rumple traced little circles on Belle’s stomach with one hand, the other wrapped firmly around her. For her part, Belle cuddled into his side, just breathing in the smell of him. Just the subtle scent of his cologne was intoxicating enough.

Sex – as wonderful as it had been – and one single, brutally honest conversation were not enough to undo the hurts done to each other, Belle knew, and she had to fight the compulsion to brush it all under the rug again. They could do this. It would be painful, and probably involve a shouting match or two, but they could do it. True Love had to be fought for after all, if she was just willing to believe that it was worth it. That their family was worth it.

“Will you make a deal with me?” she whispered, lifting her head just enough to look him in the eyes. Although the afterglow was wearing off, it was comfortable where they were, like coming home, and she felt no desire to change that any time soon. But they still needed to talk.

“Of course,” he said. “Anything.”

That was maybe a dangerous statement to make, but she chose to brush past it for now. “I won’t walk out again,” she said slowly, making sure she thought through what she was going to say. “I’ll stay and I’ll hear you out, no matter what, so long as you promise to talk to me, to tell me the truth. I – I can’t promise that I’ll always be happy with you, but I can promise to try and understand.”

Centuries’ worth of pain and heartbreak crossed his face before he could mask it, and Belle forced herself to wait. She understood now _why_ he found it so hard to trust anyone – even, or perhaps especially, her – and she had to be patient. Sometimes she forgot that Rumple wasn’t as emotionally stable as he pretended to be, and forgot that he couldn’t be a perfectly good man just because she wanted him to be. He was cursed after all, and she couldn’t allow herself to forget that the darkness was still there. He was who he was, and she had to remember that.

It took a while, but eventually, painfully slowly, he nodded. “Alright,” he murmured hoarsely, using the hand wrapped around her to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I want you to promise me that you’ll tell me when you’re not happy. Don’t cover it up because you think you need to be the strong one.”

“I – I think I can do that.”

“Then we have a deal.”

She smiled and leant down to kiss him, marvelling at how natural this all felt. Even with everything they had been through … maybe they still had a chance.

“They’re – they’re not aware of this, are they?” she asked with a sudden burst of self-consciousness. Their children had only ever appeared in dreams, but they both had plenty of understanding about the outside world, suggesting some level of pre-natal awareness –

Rumple paled as the same thought struck him. “Gods, I hope not,” he said, looking down at her belly. “I’ve – I’ve no experience with this sort of thing.”

“This exact situation or explaining sex to a child in general?”

He gave a small shrug. “We’ll have to get some sheep.”

His eyes misted over as he let out a small chuckle, and Belle knew that he was thinking about Baelfire. The topic of his firstborn was a painful one at best, and one of many things they had failed to mention at all in the brief time they had been married. It had been too raw, too recent, and she had been too eager to pretend that everything was really okay – one of many things she had realised, retrospectively, had been a huge mistake.

“What’s his name?”

“Hmm?”

“Our son,” Rumple said, rubbing his thumb against her navel. “What’s his name?”

“Oh,” Belle murmured, caught off guard by the question. He’d changed the subject, obviously; but it was one that they would have to address eventually. Later. “I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest –”

“You must have one in mind.” He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. “What made you choose ‘Gabrielle’?”

“It’s the author of my favourite book,” Belle explained with a small chuckle.

“The first one your mother ever read to you,” said Rumple, a glint of an idea forming as he broke into a wide grin. “Then what about ‘Gideon’? After the hero of the story?”

She smiled, amazed that he had remembered that. “Really? You’d – you’d like that?”

“It’s a good name,” he said. “A strong name.”

“Two ‘G’s. And ‘Gold’ on top of that.”

“Eh,” Rumple replied. “If Charming can get away with naming his son ‘Neal Nolan’, I don’t see why we should have a problem.”

“Gideon,” Belle murmured, testing it out. “Hmm. It’s good.”

“Good,” said her (no longer estranged) husband, pushing himself up on his elbow and drawing her closer. One kiss turned into two, then a third. “Shall we try and traumatise our children a little more?”

“You’re explaining this to them,” she agreed with a laugh. He chortled as well before rolling her onto her back, smiling as he kissed her.

It wasn’t perfect, far from it. But it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part III: A misadventure with Jekyll and Hyde leads to some angst
> 
> I might write some future ficlets or deleted scenes from this 'verse at some point; feel free to prompt here or over at shepherdinthevalleyofdeath.tumblr.com!
> 
> By the way, if you liked this, I’d really, really love it if you’d check out my other stories: ‘There But for the Grace of God’ and ‘Be All My Sins Remember’d’ are the first two segments of a total rewrite of seasons 3B, 4 and 5 (unrelated to ‘Intervention’) where Neal lives and CS never becomes a thing, plus correcting a few other errors made since the end of 3A (read: the whole of season 4); and ‘The Grimm Affair’ is a Swanfire AU with frequent appearances from the Floof Family.


	3. Part III

“You’re fretting.”

“Am not,” Rumplestiltskin insisted, murmuring in his wife’s ear while the doctor finished prepping the ultrasonography equipment. Thankfully, it was Doc the dwarf who was generally in charge of obstetrics and paediatrics, not Whale (extreme circumstances notwithstanding); otherwise Rumplestiltskin may have run for the hills from embarrassment. His hand gently hovered over Belle’s exposed belly nonetheless, the fancy modern equipment making him nervous. Oh, he was sure that Doc understood very well what he was doing when it came to _ordinary_ children – but if the last eight weeks had proven anything, it was that their unborn twins were anything but ordinary. This was completely unexplored territory, and even Rumplestiltskin couldn’t begin to guess what might happen.

Belle, for her part, took hold of his other hand and squeezed it firmly. “It’s a routine check-up. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried that there’s anything wrong,” he replied, truthfully enough as his own scans would have revealed that much. “It’s what could _go_ wrong that worries me.”

The twins had magic, and somehow already had enough control over it that they could talk to their mother in dreams. Whether that was a side effect of the sleeping curse, the dream dust, an innate ability or a combination of all three, Rumplestiltskin had no idea. To the best of his knowledge, no Dark One had ever borne or fathered a child while cursed; there was simply no way to know what they would be capable of.

Belle squeezed his hand again, perhaps sensing his anxiety beginning to play up, and then pecked him on the cheek, sending a supernova of warmth through his blackened heart. It had been a week since they had finally talked things through and made a deal; Belle had promised that she would listen to his side of the story rather than storm out, and Rumplestiltskin had promised honesty in return. For the most part, the deal was working remarkably well. True, there had been a fair amount of shouting, some regrettable truths and squashed emotions making themselves known, and he had spent a night or two on the sofa after some particularly heated disagreements. But the agreement they had made to _talk_ and to be honest was working, and Rumplestiltskin was kicking himself for not realising that sooner.

“Alrighty, let’s get a look at the little feller,” Doc announced.

Belle gasped at the application of the gel. The sound must have made Rumplestiltskin flinch, because she quickly said: “It’s just a bit cold. I’m alright.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Ah-ha, there we are!” Doc exclaimed proudly as an image came up on the screen. Rumplestiltskin squinted, but all he could see were a bunch of squiggles in varying shades of grey. “There he is.”

“Where?” asked Belle, as lost as Rumplestiltskin was. Doc pointed it out for them; a darkish smudge that was slightly rounder than the rest of the squiggles.

“Nothing too impressive yet, but you are only eight weeks along,” said the dwarf. “He’ll get bigger.”

 _A lot bigger_ , thought Rumplestiltskin while sharing a knowing look with his wife. _About six feet bigger._

It was strange to think that the little squiggle, right now about the size of a blackberry, would one day grow into a human being who dwarfed both of his parents. Or it could have been Gabrielle, but Rumplestiltskin only knew what Gideon would look like – unlike his wife, he hadn’t been able to see their daughter in person. He wished that he had, or could; but for now, this was enough.

“I’ll let you two have a moment.”                                                         

“Okay.”

As Doc screenshot the image and left them alone, Rumplestiltskin clasped Belle’s hand in both of him, fighting the urge to cry. He was going to be a papa again; for all that Baelfire’s death still hurt – gods, it was unbearable to think about – he couldn’t help but feel like he had swallowed a whole bright spring day, by the water with the daffodils in bloom. This was really happening.

“That’s our baby,” he murmured, wonderstruck as they watched the frozen screen.

Belle chuckled. “Yeah. I wonder which one.”

“One of them. I think that might be the other one down there,” Rumplestiltskin said, leaning over his wife to point at a similarly-shaped blob almost out of the frame. Or it could have been a part of Belle’s kidney; how would he know? Mr Gold had been an attorney, not a doctor. “Do you think Doc would know that there are two?”

“No, I think they can’t tell until they're bigger,” said Belle.

Word-of-mouth, courtesy of Snow White, had quickly dispensed the news of Belle’s pregnancy amongst the heroes and their outer circles. The few people Belle had spoken to after returning from the Land of Untold Stories – Granny, Archie, Robin – knew that the baby was a boy, but so far only Rumplestiltskin and Belle knew about their daughter’s existence. A week ago, they had made the decision to keep it that way, at least for now. Rumplestiltskin was hardly on friendly terms with the self-proclaimed heroes anymore, and Belle’s relationship with them had turned sour the moment the two of them decided to work things out. He wanted to see what their next move would be before letting them know about his third child. But for now, he was content to cuddle his wife and gaze unbelievingly at the first photographic evidence of the new life the two of them had made together.

* * *

 

“Hey, I had a thought,” Rumplestiltskin said after he and Belle returned to the shop after the doctor’s appointment. Doc had given them a print-out of the ultrasound, and he was in the process of digging through a box of frames for one in which to mount the picture. Belle was sitting in a chair, nibbling on a cracker.

“Do you plan to share, or are you going to make me guess?” she quipped with a smile that made Rumplestiltskin’s blackened heart flip happily in his chest.

 _I was a fool to ever doubt her love,_ he chided himself for the millionth time.

“How would you feel if I tried making a potion with one of your hairs?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up with understanding immediately. “A True Love potion?”

“That’s the one,” he said, smiling shyly. The thought had been a long time coming, but between his journey to find Bae, then to Neverland, being trapped and then almost consumed by the darkness, he just hadn’t got around to it. His personal insecurities hadn’t helped, the fear that the potion would just prove that they weren’t True Love after all; a fear that had skyrocketed after his kiss failed to wake her in the Underworld. Now, with a few weeks’ worth of retrospection, he realised that of course it wouldn’t have worked – in Hades’ world, _nothing_ ever happened unless the god wished it, including curse breaking. It had probably been a small act of retribution for his tricking Hades into tearing up the contract, one he hadn’t anticipated until too late.

“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” said Belle, getting up to stand next to him. “I’d rather like to see it, actually.”

“Really?”

She had that blazing look in her eyes – _you silly man,_ it said – right before she kissed him gently. He leant into it, wrapping his arms around her at the same time that she tangled her hands in his hair. How had he ever been so blind as to think that this wasn’t enough? What did power have on this? One kiss turned into two, then three, and they smiled against each other’s lips before the fourth.

“Gold? Are you in here?”

Belle gave a small groan. “One of these days,” she murmured, rolling her eyes, “they are going to stop barging in here at the worst of times.”

“I fear that day may be far in the future,” Rumplestiltskin chuckled despite his annoyance.

Charming swiped the curtain aside, noticed their embrace and immediately turned the colour of a beetroot. “Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“Constantly,” Rumplestiltskin replied, taking his time in disentangling himself from his wife’s arms. “Is there something you want?”

“Yeah. We got a problem.”

“When do we not?” he asked dryly, which earned him a look from Belle.

“What is it, David?”

“Hyde’s on the loose, terrorising the town,” said Charming, taking a step inside the room. “Jekyll’s working on a serum that would destroy him for good, but apparently he’s hit a roadblock. He says that you helped him finish the original serum; do you think you could help him finish this one?”

“I suppose I could. But –”

“Of course we can,” Belle interrupted, throwing him _that_ look again. Rumplestiltskin sighed internally. After everything the heroes had demanded of her and never paid back, Belle still wanted to help them. Too kind for her own good, sometimes.

“Of course,” he answered after a moment, looking at Belle rather than Charming.

Too, too kind for her own good.

* * *

 

The laboratory was a mess. Belle looked around and couldn’t see a single thing still intact – broken glass covered the floor of the stable, the table was smashed into two halves and there were burnt pieces of paper everywhere. Smoke almost completely obscured the smell of horses, and two prone bodies lay on the floor behind the splintered table. It was Leroy and Doc. Belle ran to check them, Rumple right behind her.

“What the hell happened here?” David demanded of the only person still standing, Doctor Jekyll, who was huddled in a corner clutching his jacket while Regina, Rumple and Belle examined the mess. The man was pale and shaking and looked as if he were about to throw up.

“Hyde,” Jekyll stammered, shakily adjusting his glasses. “He – he came for the serum. Smashed everything.”

“Damn it,” Regina muttered.

“Can’t say I’m surprised that your, uh, stronger half got the better of you once again,” said Rumple as he kicked broken glass out of the way. “Pretty much how it goes with you two, isn’t it?”

Belle was about to ask him what he meant when Leroy let out a moan. “He’s okay!” she exclaimed.

“Him too. Gonna have a hell of a headache when they wake up, though,” said David, standing up from where he had been examining Doc. Then he asked Jekyll: “Do you know where he went?”

Jekyll nodded. “In – into the woods. I think.”

“Knowing where he is won’t do us any good without the serum,” Rumple reminded them. “We can’t kill him. He’ll just come back.”

“That’s all you’ve ever cared about, isn’t it?” Jekyll snapped, red eyes finding Rumple. Belle stood on instinct and moved to her husband’s side. “You didn’t care about me or my work, did you? Do you even know what it is you’ve unleashed?!”

“I didn’t unleash anything,” Rumple replied. “ _You_ did. That man out there is not some monster from the deep; he’s _you._ Except stronger, and smarter.”

While Belle and David both threw him confused looks, Jekyll chuckled. “No. He isn’t. Not this time,” said the doctor, reaching into his vest. “See, I had a feeling that Hyde would find us, so I hid a little extra. Just in case.”

He pulled out a tube with a few millilitres of red fluid in the bottom, which he swirled around for them to see.

“It’s not quite finished,” Jekyll continued. “There are still a few things I need.”

“I should have the necessary components in my shop,” Rumple offered.

“Good,” said Regina. “Let’s get the son of a bitch.”

“We should stick together, just in case Hyde has another go at this,” David added. He pulled out his phone and started dialling. “I’ll get an ambulance to come and pick them up. And after we’re done with the serum, it might be best if you–” he nodded to Jekyll– “stay somewhere safe until we’re done.”

“But I –”

“We can track him down and deal with him,” said Regina. “But it’s probably best if you stay out of the way.”

Slowly, Jekyll nodded. “Alright. Just let me, uh, collect my things.”

David turned to Rumple. “Can we put him in the shop? That’s probably one of the safest places in town.”

Rumple looked annoyed at the intrusion but nodded anyway. “Of course. One moment.”

He grabbed Belle by the arm and led her to the back of the stables where they could talk somewhat privately. There was a mark on the wall that looked peculiar – blackened like a burn with an impact point in the centre – but Belle had no time to register its relevance. Worry shone through Rumple’s eyes – not that anyone else would have noticed, but she had known him for too long not to recognise it.

“It, uh, might be better if you stay at the shop with Jekyll while we deal with this.”

“What?” she exclaimed rather sharply, attracting the attention of the others. Rumple waved them away. “Why?”

“It’s just a hunch. Please,” he begged, holding her by the shoulders. “I’ll explain everything later; for now, I just need to be sure that you’re safe –”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Hey,” David called from the other side of the stable. Regina and Jekyll were halfway out the door. “Are you coming?”

“Go on, we’ll be right behind,” Rumple answered. When David was gone, Belle cut in before he could say anything.

“Rumple, what happened between you and Hyde?” she asked. He hadn’t explicitly stated that they had history, but the exchange with Jekyll had made her suspicious. “And please don’t tell me not to worry about it.”

Judging from the look on his face, that was exactly what he had been about to say. She gently squeezed his hand and made him look her in the eye.

_Honesty, remember?_

It still took a moment before he said anything. Even then, it was halting, like he was forcibly drawing the words out.

“It was … it was a long time ago,” he said hoarsely, not quite meeting her eyes. “Just after we met, all those years ago, because –” he paused to take a breath – “because I’d begun to realise that I was falling in love with you. I went to Jekyll looking for a solution because at the time, I believed that it would only make me weak.”

Belle stared at him, trying not to be horrified. “You thought Jekyll’s serum would rid you of those feelings?”

“I’d hoped,” Rumple admitted. He lifted his head and looked straight at her. “But the experiment was a failure, and I am _glad_ that it was. Really, I truly, truly am.”

“But then why –?”

“Because a woman died. I – I didn’t kill her,” he added quickly, for which she let out a sigh of relief. “But I fear Hyde still blames me for her death. I’m worried that the reason he’s stayed in Storybrooke is –”

“Retribution,” she finished for him, realisation dawning on her. “You think he’s gonna come after _me_?”

Well, it was really just par for the course, wasn’t it? The part of her that appreciated dark humour almost laughed.

“He knows you’re my wife and he knows you’re carrying our baby,” Rumple continued. Belle shook her head, confused.

“Wait, how could Hyde possibly know that I’m pregnant?”

He gave a small shrug. “Well, Snow White is not exactly renowned for her secret-keeping abilities.”

“She _told_ him? Why?”

“I don’t know; I didn’t ask. Look–” he swallowed, gripping her shoulders tightly– “I don’t know for certain. But Hyde is dangerous nonetheless and I _cannot_ risk you or the baby. Please. Don’t ask me to do that.”

“I can’t stay in the shop.”

Rumple’s face fell. “Belle –”

“No, no; I’ll stay out of the way, but not at the shop,” she elaborated quickly. “If Hyde is gonna come after me, that’ll be the first place he goes.”

He nodded, relief flooding his features. Much as Belle didn’t want to stay on the sidelines, she knew that it wasn’t just her life she had to consider – it was Gabi and Gideon’s too. Besides, there was a chance that she could look through some of Jekyll’s papers for anything that might be helpful, so it wasn’t like she was running away completely.

“Okay,” Rumple finally agreed. “Then where do you suggest?”

* * *

 

“Sweetheart, I really don’t think this is such a good idea.”

The Jolly Roger rolled slightly in a small swell coming in with the tide, its hull tapping against the dock. Gulls cawed around its furled sails; just looking up at the height made Rumplestiltskin feel dizzy. How would Belle cope when she could barely keep down a rice cracker?

“Rumple, I told you,” his wife insisted, elevated slightly by the gangplank so she stood at equal height to him – she’d stopped wearing heels once the morning sickness had set in. “The Jolly Roger is the last place that anyone would think to look for me. Everyone knows you and Hook hate each other.”

“I know _that_ ,” he replied. Her logic was sound, and he certainly couldn’t argue with it. Not reasonably, anyway. “I still don’t like the idea of you being any closer to that pirate than necessary.”

She snaked her arms around his neck, the sea air blowing her hair about her face. “It’ll only be for a few hours, and he’s not even going to be here. He’ll be out in the woods tracking down Hyde with the rest of you,” she reminded him, then drew him in for a kiss. “Don’t worry.”

“If you two are done being all lovey-dovey over there,” Regina called sharply over the sound of the gulls, the wind and the tide, “can we get on with this?”

Rumplestiltskin had to suppress a laugh as, despite Regina’s request, Belle kissed him once more for good measure. He reluctantly let her climb the gangplank and join Doctor Jekyll on deck, then flicked his fingers at the ship. A protection spell rose from the water, one that would keep away anyone with harmful intentions towards his wife. That done, he turned around to where Regina was waiting with Charming, Robin, Emma and Hook. The pirate gave him a dark look; Rumplestiltskin shot him a self-satisfied smirk in return.

“So, shall we do this?” asked Emma with a wary eye.

Rumplestiltskin huffed indignantly. He held out a hand to Regina, who was holding the almost-finished serum. “Let’s have a look.”

However Regina took a step back, keeping the serum out of reach. “I don’t think I’ll be handing over what is essentially our _only_ weapon,” she said. “You can work your magic from there.”

He bit back a snarky retort. For the good of his wife and children, he needed to get along with these people. “Do you want my help or not, dearie? Because if I’m to help, I need that serum.”

“It’s your wife who’s in danger here, Crocodile,” spat Hook. Rumplestiltskin barely kept himself from cursing the pirate, instead settling for a low growl.

“And it’s _because_ she’s in danger that you should trust me to take care of this little problem.” He turned back to Regina and clicked his fingers expectantly.

A moment passed, during which she shared a look with Emma and then Charming, before slowly handing the vial over. The pirate made an audible noise of distaste, one that Rumplestiltskin was sure Charming would have echoed if the man hadn’t been infuriatingly polite. Robin, for his part, looked on impatiently and kept glancing at his watch. He obviously wanted this over with as much, or possibly even more, than Rumplestiltskin did.

“Give me your sword,” Rumplestiltskin said to Charming, who handed it over without protest. He then poured the serum over the blade, muttering an incantation as he did, and the sword glowed crimson before returning to its normal colour.

“There,” he announced, flipping the sword around to hand it back to Charming. “Now you can kill him.”

* * *

 

In the cabin, Belle tried to make herself useful and not fret. The ship’s constant rocking was already wreaking havoc on her head and stomach; she found a bucket and put it by her chair, just in case.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked Jekyll, who was fiddling with some dials on that odd wand-like contraption of his. She couldn’t concentrate on her book, and though she doubted she’d keep the tea down, it would give her something to do.

“Ah, yes, that would be lovely. Thank you.”

She felt him watching her curiously as she found a kettle and some matches, and got to work.

“So, uh, _you’re_ Belle,” said Jekyll once she’d got the fire lit. “The, uh, Dark One’s wife.”

She nodded, and then extended a hand for him to shake. In spite of the time he had been in Storybrooke, they hadn’t been properly introduced. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you, too,” he returned with a slight bow of his head. He was looking at her belly. “How is the, uh …” he stammered, making an awkward gesture at her navel.

“Oh.” Belle put a hand on her stomach self-consciously. Obviously the news had spread further than she’d realised. “Good. Healthy. Although the rocking isn’t doing me much good right now.”

“No, I can’t imagine it would be,” said Jekyll with a small laugh. Belle nodded and put the kettle on the stove; when she turned back, he was still watching her. He started when he saw that she’d noticed. “I’m terribly sorry; I don’t mean to appear rude. It’s just that … well, you’re not exactly what I expected when I was told that the Dark One had taken a wife.”

“That’s true of most people,” she said, while internally lamenting that fact. How much simpler would things be if people could just accept the fact that she loved Rumple and he loved her? “It’s difficult to explain. Are you married?”

“Me? Hah. No. No, I’m not.” He shook his head gloomily. “I was, uh, quite close to someone once. We may have been married, but – well, it wasn’t to be, sadly.”

“What happened?”

Jekyll paused before answering. “She died.”

While putting a teaspoon of sugar into her cup, Belle thought: _Was she the same woman whom Rumple says was killed when your experiment failed?_ Out loud, she said: “I’m so sorry.”

He gave a little self-deprecating chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiment, Belle, but sentiment won’t bring my Mary back.”

“You must have truly loved her.”

“I did,” he answered, his voice catching in his throat. “With all my heart. Until Hyde destroyed her.”

Belle glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. What was that supposed to mean?

* * *

 

Meanwhile, out in the woods, the group had split up to cover more ground. It had been Robin’s suggestion, and Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help but notice how … well, _strange_ the outlaw was acting. Something was bothering him. Rumplestiltskin didn’t normally take much interest in the odd behaviour of others – it hardly concerned him, after all – but Robin was Belle’s friend. One of the only ones who had bothered to check up on her after she’d come back to Storybrooke or see how she was feeling or make sure she was okay. And Rumplestiltskin did feel that he and the outlaw had something in common – they both hated Zelena with the force of a thousand angry dragons.

The strangest part was how Robin had, almost deliberately, partnered himself up with Rumplestiltskin instead of Regina. They had agreed on one sorcerer per group, and of course Hook was going with Emma, but there was no reason why Rumplestiltskin couldn’t have partnered with Charming. Unless Robin _didn’t_ want to be with Regina …

Running water alerted them to the presence of a creek, and they found it quickly. While Robin scoured the banks for tracks, Rumplestiltskin cast his eyes around the woods. His curiosity got the better of him.

“Odd that you didn’t wish to partner up with Regina on this venture,” he said, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“She’ll be fine with David,” Robin replied with an equal level of coolness. He paused for a long time, seemingly to inspect a scuff mark that was probably just a rabbit track. “Probably for the best, anyway.”

“I take it that your daughter is in the company of her mother at the moment?”

“Yes. Now please shut up so I can find this damn crook and get back to her.”

 _Ah,_ Rumplestiltskin realised with a grimace. So that was the problem. Obviously Robin and Zelena hadn’t yet sorted their custody of baby Diane – curious name, one he was certain that her mother hadn’t chosen – and Regina was most likely attempting to play mediator. Well, Rumplestiltskin was just glad not to be a part of that mess. He certainly didn’t blame Robin for his feelings. Any fool could see that Zelena was not a fit parent. He wondered if he should offer legal counsel – he was still an attorney, after all, and even Storybrooke had to adhere to a legal code …

Robin grunted, got off the ground and took a few strides along the bank before turning back. He looked weary. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m just a little on edge at the moment.”

“Understandable,” Rumplestiltskin replied. He pointed past Robin, further up the creek. “There’s smoke coming from over there.”

The outlaw turned to look, and Rumplestiltskin watched him. He hadn’t noticed the smoke at all, which was unusual. Distracted, definitely.

He decided to make the offer later, once Hyde had been dealt with. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have dreamt of getting involved, but Robin deserved better than to have to raise a child with that witch, and the child deserved better than to have her as a mother.

As they got closer, it became obvious that someone was hiding out by the creek. A shelter of sorts, covered over with branches. Rumplestiltskin sent out feelers, trying to detect any signs of human life, while Robin whispered their location into the radio for the others to find. Then there was the sound of a twig snapping, and Rumplestiltskin had just enough time to dive out of the way as something exploded out of a nearby bush. Robin wasn’t nearly as lucky and was pinned to the ground by Hyde in an instant, a hunting knife less than an inch away from his throat, until Rumplestiltskin blasted the man away, sending him sprawling inside the shelter. He pinned Hyde down with magic and turned the man’s own blade back on him. Hyde just laughed.

“We both know that won’t kill me,” he said in that deep, gravelly voice of his.

“No,” Rumplestiltskin replied. “But it’ll still hurt.”

“Have you been camping out here?” asked Robin, who had recovered and joined them in the tent, shaking dirt off his jacket. Rumplestiltskin had a look around – Hyde wasn’t going anywhere – and saw that the outlaw was right. There was all the equipment need to cook simple meals, a bedroll that still looked better than some things Rumplestiltskin had slept on, and a map of Storybrooke pinned to the tent wall. Interestingly, all the exit points out of town had been highlighted in red.

Hyde had noticed their interest. “Let me go,” he demanded. “I want to leave this town.”

Rumplestiltskin pressed the hunting knife to his chin, just in case Hyde hadn’t got the message the first time. “No,” he growled. “I let you go, you’re going to kill my wife.”

But Hyde shook his head. “No. She’s in no danger from me. Please. Help me get away from him.”

“Him?” said Robin, while Rumplestiltskin got to his feet. “As in Jekyll?”

Hyde stared adamantly at Rumplestiltskin. Pieces started to come together in his mind. There had been burn marks on the walls of the barn, and the faint smell of smoke … and Jekyll owned a lightning wand capable of doing _exactly_ that sort of damage … and he had been _conveniently_ still conscious when Regina rocked up at the stables …

“You didn’t destroy the lab, did you?”

Hyde shook his head. “I haven’t been into the town in days. It wasn’t safe.”

Rumplestiltskin’s blood went cold. How had he missed it? “Gods. _Belle_!”

He ran. Robin called after him. “Oi! Rumplestiltskin! _Rumplestiltskin_!”

He kept running.

* * *

 

The kettle had finally boiled. Belle took it off the stove, poured the tea and took it over to the table. Jekyll was still watching her. Frankly, it was starting to become off-putting.

“Whatever happened, whatever Hyde did to Mary,” she said slowly, gauging his reaction out of the corner of her eye, “I’m … I’m sorry.”

Jekyll sniffled. “If only she had been strong enough to resist Hyde, then – then she would be mine.”

That was an odd choice of words. Belle tentatively set Jekyll’s cup down. “Yours?” she asked.

He started. “I mean, we – we – we would be together, of course,” he stammered, as if covering over a mistake. She felt a tug somewhere in the vicinity of her kidneys and grasped the back of her chair as a dizzy spell overcame her.

_Mum! Get out of there!_

“What did you say?” she asked Jekyll. He blinked at her.

“I said that we would be together,” he repeated. “If only Mary had been able to resist Hyde.”

_Mother! Run!_

Belle cleared her throat and corrected the chair. “Yeah. Um, would you excuse me one moment? Just, uh, just need a bit of fresh air.”

“Of course.”

She rubbed her belly self-consciously on the way to the door, and stepped out, chancing a look over her shoulder as she did. Jekyll was sipping his tea, but she had a feeling that he was still watching. She went up the stairs. It could just be paranoia …

She knew there was a pantry somewhere close by. Glancing back once more – Jekyll was out of sight – Belle turned off at the first landing and carefully tip-toed into the first cupboard that presented itself. Sure enough, there were footsteps on the stairs only moments later. Careful footsteps, the strides of a man who didn’t want to be heard. Belle stifled a gasp. She was in trouble.

_You have to run! Mum! Run!_

“Gideon?” she murmured, recognising her son’s voice. But before she could contemplate how on earth she could hear the voice of an unborn baby aloud, she heard louder footfalls coming _down_ the stairs, right onto the landing Belle had just left –

_RUN!_

The footsteps were right outside the cupboard when Belle threw the door open, smacking the heavy piece of wood straight into Jekyll and sending him sprawling on the gallery floor. It was enough time for her to dart up the stairs and climb onto the deck, but Jekyll had recovered quicker than she’d hoped. He cut her off en route to the gangplank, standing between her and the docks with the wand pointed straight at her stomach. She backpedalled, stumbling on a pile of heavy rope, but where was there to go? She was _trapped_ on a _ship._

“No!” Belle pleaded, unable to choke back a sob. “Not my baby! Please, not my baby!”

“I’m sorry, Belle,” said Jekyll, all of his former miserable countenance gone, blood dripping from his broken nose. “I truly am, but I’m afraid that I have come too far to stop now. See, Mary died because of the Dark One. Now that monster will finally know how it feels!”

Electricity started to crackle at the wand’s tip. Jekyll’s face contorted into a merciless sneer, and Belle searched desperately for something – _anything –_ she could use to protect her children, but there was nothing for it except to hug them tightly and pray –

Until Jekyll let out a shout of pain. Then there was the thud of a body landing heavily on a wooden floor, somebody shouted something in pure rage, and the repeated whacks of something hitting something else with considerable force. Belle forced her eyes open and disentangled herself from her own limbs.

“Rumple! Rumple, _stop_!” she shouted, racing to her husband’s side and grabbing hold of his arm. She barely registered Jekyll’s still form, bleeding on the deck, for the way Rumple shook and fought against her grasp, holding a bloodied oar in his hands, brown eyes cold and unrestrained rage burning within them –

The Dark One had reared its ugly head, and Belle jumped back from shock.

A moment later, Rumple finally seemed to register what was going on. “Belle?” he murmured softly, chucking the oar aside and reaching for her. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no,” she replied, shaking her head for emphasis.

Jekyll was extremely still, face-down on the deck; and one of his arms was bent at a strange angle …

Rumple gave a small protest as Belle padded over to the still man and pressed her fingers to his neck. Nothing. There was a lot of blood pooling beneath him. Belle made the mistake of turning him over to inspect the damage. Thankfully, the edge of the ship was only a few steps away, and she made it there before throwing up. Twice. Her stomach tried a few more times, but she hadn’t eaten much and there was nothing left to void. She became aware that Rumple was standing off to her left once her body started cooperating again.

“Belle –” he whispered gently. She could feel his hand hovering over her back.

“It’s okay; I’m okay,” she said. He produced a handkerchief for her and she wiped her mouth. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. Anything else seemed like too much effort. She sat down on the railing, tried not to look at the body, and rested her head in her hands.

It had happened again. Just like she had told Gabi, somebody had once again tried to use her to hurt Rumple. Despite all the progress they had made, something had once again happened that tore it all to shreds. Once again, she had not been able to do a damn thing about it; and now Rumple was again a murderer because he’d had to stop them. She hadn’t even been able to protect her children.

She had to go. She didn’t know where, just that she had to go. Getting up was difficult, a combination of shock and a rocking ship making her dizzy; but once she found her balance, she walked straight to the gangplank, careful to keep both hands on the safety rails.

“Belle?” Rumple called after her. She stopped when her feet were on solid ground again. “Where – where are you going?”

“I just need a moment,” she said. The deal that they had made – that he would be honest, and she would hear him out – weighed heavily on her shoulders, pressing guilt that she was only a footstep away from breaking it. She took a breath and turned to face him, halfway down the gangplank.

“I’ll come back,” she told him. “I – I promise. Just … give me a minute. Please.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay,” he agreed softly.

She turned to go. Where, she wasn’t sure. She just hoped that a walk would help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’ll be okay, I promise!  
> Part IV: Belle goes for her walk and encounters a few people she should probably have words with, Rumplestiltskin copes with whiskey, and Robin seeks his help in obtaining custody of his daughter.


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: kidnapping
> 
> I mean, it is just a dad getting his kid away from an incompetent caregiver, but it's kidnapping nonetheless

It was the middle of a school day, so the park was pretty much empty. There was a family with two small children eating at a picnic table. Belle gave them a wide berth, ignored the churning feeling in her chest, and sat down on the swings instead. She took several deep breaths, hands braced against her knees, until her heart rate was back to normal and she could think clearly again. The image of Jekyll’s broken body was still at the forefront of her mind; if there had been anything in her stomach, she would have thrown up again.

She didn’t blame Rumple for what had happened. No doubt he’d seen Jekyll turn on her and acted on instinct. She would have done the same. How he’d known to come, she would have to ask later, but for now she just had to get the picture of the Dark One out of her head. Only once before had she seen such bellicosity in his eyes, and that had been after she kissed him for the first time – after he’d believed that Regina had sent her to steal his powers. Every once in a while, that memory would crop up in a nightmare that Belle couldn’t quite shake, and it still scared her. Every single time.

It wasn’t really Rumplestiltskin. But at the same time, it was – the darkness did wear his face, after all – and when these things happened, it became harder for Belle to draw the line between the two.

She looked down at her hands. Sunlight was glinting off her wedding band, and she slipped it off, turning it over in her hands. She’d put it back on only that morning when things had seemed so much better, and they had just been an ordinary couple – albeit with some issues they were still working out – on their way to a doctor’s appointment to see their unborn baby.

God, she was so tired of this. Because the pattern just kept going – she and Rumple got into a good place, and invariably some train of deific judgement came along to wreck it. Every time. Eight weeks ago she hadn’t been sure that it was worth it, had wondered if walking away would be better for both of them. People couldn’t use her to hurt Rumple if it didn’t look like they cared about each other. But then, of course, she’d gone and jumped into bed with him – literally – which had gotten them into their current predicament and now neither of them had a choice. Whether she walked away or not didn’t matter anymore; their children were going to be targeted either way just because they were Rumple’s. Nothing Belle did would change that, and she couldn’t just abandon them. Not now, not ever.

There was also the slight possibility that she was losing her mind to consider.

She was _fairly_ sure that had been Gideon she’d heard on the ship, warning her about Jekyll – she was hardly about to forget her own son’s voice – but the question remained: how on earth was that even possible?

Either the twins were more powerful than Rumple had thought, or Belle was losing it. Frankly, she wasn’t sure which option was less terrifying. Neither could she think of a way to find out for sure – Rumple had said himself that he had no experience in this area, and if _he_ didn’t know, who would?

Belle sighed and dropped her head into her hands, swinging slightly in her seat. Not for the first time, she wished that her mother was there. Colette would have known what to do, where to look for answers. She may not have _had_ an answer, but she would have at least known what to do next.

Across the park, the school bell rang, signalling the end of classes and the day. Belle got off the swings – excited schoolchildren would be flooding the park any moment – and slipped her ring back on before following the walking track back to the road. The ringing continued in her ears long after the actual sound had finished, irritating like a persistent fly, until it gave her an idea.

Maybe there was _one_ person in town who might know what was going on.

* * *

 

While Belle was out dealing with things in the park, Rumplestiltskin shut himself in the back of the shop. A bottle of scotch was procured and a clean glass found, and he plonked himself in his chair. There was blood staining his cufflinks and his shoes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

This was just how it went. He and Belle got into a good place, he inevitably destroyed it and sent them back to square one. The heroes would find Jekyll’s body sooner or later, guess what had happened, and he would be back to being the town monster. No doubt they would try and sequester Belle away from him, deeming him unsafe even to be around her or fit to raise their child, if they didn’t already have a plan to lock the baby away in a cage the moment it was born.

Or she would spare them the trouble and just never come back.

_But she promised that she would!_

Aye, but what did that really matter? Maybe she’d return, maybe she wouldn’t. They were just doomed to repeat the same cycle over and over again anyway. Maybe it would be for the best if Belle didn’t come back.

Rumplestiltskin gulped down the whole glass in one go, then poured himself another.

This was it, wasn’t it? She never coming back; she was going to leave Storybrooke for good; she was going to take their babies and leave forever.

He found the picture on his desk. Between the alcohol quickly taking effect and the tears muddling his vision, he couldn’t tell what was what on the photograph, just a bunch of dark squiggles and lines that could have been anything; he didn’t even know for sure where the baby was –

That was all he was going to get, wasn’t it? Just one picture of some dark squiggles. He would never see his wife’s belly grow to term, never hold his children, never get the chance to make things right with Gideon; he would never even _see_ Gabrielle –

The shop’s bell rang and Rumplestiltskin bit back a curse. Couldn’t the heroes leave him to his misery for one _blasted_ minute?

“Rumplestiltskin? Are you here?”

“Go away!”

Robin pushed the curtain aside and barged in. Rumplestiltskin groaned.

“What do you want?” he snapped, too irritated to use his signature phrase. Maybe if he appeared callous enough, Robin would leave. Sadly, the outlaw was not to be put off.

“I need your help.”

“Come back later.”

“This can’t wait,” Robin insisted.

Rumplestiltskin dropped his glass onto the table and tucked the picture of the twins into his jacket pocket, waited a good minute in silence but Robin was still there. It was clear that he wasn’t going anywhere; his manner told Rumplestiltskin that he could’ve chucked him out of the door and he’d just come straight back.

“Fine. What is it?”

“Help me get my daughter away from Zelena.”

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow. “Coming to the Dark One is a risky proposition no matter what the circumstance. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?”

“The woman is incompetent!” Robin shouted; the sudden volume made Rumplestiltskin flinch. “She was asleep! She left Diane on her play-mat in the living room, being watched by a _monkey_! And then has the gall to have a go at _me_ for getting upset about it!”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” Rumplestiltskin murmured. Anyone with eyes knew that Zelena wasn’t mother material. “What did Regina have to say?”

“She wants to brush it under the rug, along with everything else,” Robin snapped. He stood still for a moment, visibly fuming, before adding: “She tried to tell me that since, of the three of us, Zelena is the first-time parent, I should just be patient with her.”

“Ah.” Rumplestiltskin sighed. As much as he wished he could say that he was proud of his former student, she was becoming more and more of a disappointment by the day. Regina was smarter than this. “What would you like me to do?”

“Something. Anything,” Robin begged. “Please, I’ll pay anything. Just help me get my daughter away from that witch.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” Robin restated. “Name your price.”

* * *

 

Snow was finding it strange, going back to the classroom three days a week (the other two being covered by a young woman named Jasmine who had been looking for work since the second curse broke). She loved the kids; they were a fantastic bunch this year, but she felt guilty for leaving Neal in day-care with Ella when he was still so young. The memory of losing Emma as a newborn made Snow anxious every time Neal was out of her sight, no matter the knowledge that he was safe and being looked after. As soon as school let out, she picked him up, and then went to Granny’s. She’d gotten an unusual text from Belle, asking to meet her there because she wanted to talk. Curious.

The woman in question was already at the diner when Snow arrived, Neal thankfully asleep in his carrier. Belle was gazing out of the window, nursing a cup of what may have been hot chocolate – when she got closer, she realised it was actually just water – and she looked pretty queasy. Snow remembered those days all too well.

“Hey,” she said, dropping into the chair opposite. “What’s up? You wanted to ask me something?”

“Yeah, um … yeah.”

Belle took a breath, gazing down into her cup. She was strangely pale, her eyes slightly reddened like she had been crying, and now that Snow looked closely, it looked like that was blood on her sleeve …

What had Rumplestiltskin done now?

Belle had noticed Snow’s interest, and quickly hid her hand under the table before asking her question: “What was it like when you were pregnant with Emma?”

“A lot of things. Wonderful. Terrifying,” Snow replied honestly.

“Did –” Belle swallowed, biting her lip. “Did she have magic in the womb?”

“Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“You couldn’t talk to her?”

Snow gave a small shrug. “Every now and again. Sometimes I caught David chatting with her, late at night. You know, it’s funny – he swore that she used to kick him if he started singing –”

“No, I mean could _she_ talk to _you_?” Belle asked firmly. Snow frowned – what was she getting at? “She didn’t – she didn’t appear to you in – in dreams where she looked like an adult?”

“No …?” Snow leant back in her chair, carefully studying Belle’s appearance. “Belle –”

“What about when you were awake?” she continued, undeterred from her line of questioning. “Did you ever hear a voice like hers warning you when something bad was about to happen?”

“No. Belle, are you sure you’re okay? I know the first few months can be pretty rough, especially with the first one –”

Belle let out a hollow laughed and rubbed her face with both hands. “I am not crazy.”

“You just told me that you’ve been hearing voices,” said Snow. She knew Belle was still keeping a room at Granny’s, although from what David told her it sounded like she and Rumplestiltskin were trying to mend fences. Whether that was a good idea wasn’t for Snow to say, even if she did have some strong opinions on the matter. She wondered if maybe it would do Belle some good to get out of town for a while, get some air and some distance from everything that had happened –

Or had she _actually_ been hearing the voice of her unborn baby?

It wasn’t inconceivable that a child of the Dark One would have magic, Snow supposed. But what would that mean later on, especially if it was already manifesting _now_ –?

“Belle, have you thought about talking to someone?” Snow suggested. “Maybe Archie? Or Blue? She could help, especially if the baby _is_ magical. I mean, when Emma was learning, it took her a while to gain control. And that was light magic.”

Belle gave her a look that Snow couldn’t quite interpret. All she knew was that it didn’t fit on Belle’s usually pleasant, friendly face.

“Why did you tell Hyde I was pregnant?” she asked, not answering Snow’s question.

Snow started, taking off guard by Belle’s abruptness. “What?”

“Hyde,” Belle repeated. “You told him I was pregnant. Why?”

Wherever had she heard that? Snow swallowed; okay, so she had blurted it out in a heated moment, but she hadn’t _meant_ to. Belle’s blue eyes stared unrelenting, waiting for an answer.

“I – I’m sorry,” she managed to stammer. “I didn’t mean to. It’s – it’s just that Hyde thought we’d been sent by Rumplestiltskin, and he didn’t believe us when we said that we hadn’t. He demanded to know how we’d gotten to his world and started choking Hook –”

“So you _sold me out_?” Belle exclaimed, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Belle, he tried to _steal_ magic from the town!”

“ _To – save – ME!”_

Heads turned all around the diner as Belle stood up, glaring down at Snow. The part of her brain that was still working remarked on how much _bigger_ Belle seemed all of a sudden; Snow had a feeling that it would probably be best if she kept her mouth shut …

“Don’t you dare tell me that you’d do any different,” Belle finished in a deadly quiet tone before leaving, shoving the table as she went.

“Belle –!” Snow called, standing up to follow but she was already gone, disappeared up the stairs leading to the guest rooms. Neal made a noise in his carrier. The yelling must have upset him. When Snow turned around, it was to the frightened face of every person in the diner. Granny had come out onto the floor as well, both hands on her hips.

“What the hell did you do now?” the older woman demanded.

“I – I don’t know –”

“You know what? I don’t want to know.” Granny waved aside whatever Snow had been about to say and headed for the stairs. “That girl’s got more than enough to deal with. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make sure that she’s okay.”

Snow would have offered to do that, but between the glare that Granny threw her and the feeling that it would be better to stay quiet, she instead opted to excuse herself and her son from the diner.

* * *

 

Belle slammed her door shut and went straight to the bathroom. She threw up into the toilet bowl the one cup of water she’d been able to down, and then sat on the cold floor, forehead on her knees while she bit back angry tears. She was just so sick of this. How much longer was everyone going to insist that Rumplestiltskin _had_ to be against them, just because he was the Dark One, and her a fool for trusting him? For as long as Belle had known him, all he’d ever wanted was his family – her, their children, Baelfire. Why _the hell_ couldn’t any of them understand that?!

God, what was it going to be like when the twins were born? When Snow had mentioned Emma’s magic, she’d been specific when she’d said that it was _light_ magic – like she was excluding Belle’s child from that possibility. She hadn’t considered that. How many people were going to look at Gabi and Gideon like they were the spawn of pure evil? The look on Snow’s face had been enough to trigger alarm bells inside her head, urging her to get as far away as possible. Belle suddenly wondered if going to her had been a bad idea. The conversation hadn’t been that helpful – all she had really learnt was that Emma definitely _hadn’t_ appeared to her parents like Gabrielle had – and now Snow knew that the twins had magic –

Damn it. What had she just done?

Sitting on the sink was the box of prescription sleeping pills that Doc had given her a few weeks ago. Belle reached for it, thinking. She hadn’t taken any more since talking to Gabrielle – being able to cuddle up with her husband at night seemed to have chased the bad dreams away – but she needed answers. And it looked like there was only one way to get them.

* * *

 

Somebody rang the doorbell at Regina’s house while she was trying to cook dinner, much to her annoyance. Henry was upstairs, being a moody teenager that she was willing to blame on a spat he’d had with Hook – something to do with boiled fish and Pop Tarts; that was the most Regina had got out of him – and Zelena was putting Diane down for a nap.

It wasn’t that Regina really minded living with her sister. They were making progress, getting to know each other, and helping out with the baby was incredible. She just wished things could be easier, that Robin could understand _why_ she wanted to mend fences …

Okay, yeah, Regina got why he was mad. But Zelena _was_ learning. Of the three of them, she and Robin had both done this before. They just had to be patient. She was already making progress – now she understood why it wasn’t safe to leave an eight-week-old baby alone with a monkey.

She put the lasagne in the oven, set the timer and went to answer the door.

“Rumple?” she asked, surprised to see him there. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s been a while,” he said with a shrug. “Can’t an old man catch up with his friends?”

“Define ‘friends’.”

He gave a small smile. “May I come in?”

Regina stepped aside, and he came in. She noticed that he seemed to be a little unbalanced, like his feet weren’t quite doing what he wanted them to do so he had to think about it carefully. Under the light of the kitchen, she also noticed the slightly reddish rings around his eyes.

Great. What were the two of them arguing about now?

“Is your sister here?”

“Yeah, she’s just putting the baby down.” Regina untied her apron and then called for her sister. Zelena emerged and put on a tacky smile when she saw who it was.

“Oh, hello, Rumple,” she said, setting the baby monitor on the table. Regina switched it on, as Zelena had forgotten to. What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to pop around to visit some old friends?” Rumple replied, giving that little shrug again.

Zelena chuckled. “Why, Rumplestiltskin, are you lonely? You have another spat with your sweetheart? Poor thing looked awfully miserable, wandering around the park all by herself this afternoon.”

“Glass of wine, anyone?” Regina asked quickly. There was lightning in Rumple’s eyes, and Zelena was only fuelling the storm. She shot her sister a look that said ‘ _Shut up!_ ’ and went to grab a bottle. Two; she had a feeling they were going to need it.

* * *

 

Wine glasses clinked inside the house, signalling that Rumplestiltskin had got the sisters into the kitchen. Robin moved quickly; they couldn’t afford to make a mess, and he doubted that they would ever get another shot at this.

Diane’s room was on the ground floor, thankfully, and it had a sliding window. Robin climbed up, balanced carefully on the ledge and opened it gently. He froze when it scraped noisily and listened intently – but they were still talking in the kitchen and didn’t seem to have heard. There were no monkeys in the room either, thankfully. He slipped through, landed softly on the carpeted floor, slid the window shut carefully and then padded over to his daughter’s crib.

“Hey, Di,” he whispered, reaching down for her. Her eyes found him; she giggled and flapped her arms excitedly, making just a bit too much noise for Robin’s comfort. “Hey, hey, shh. Shh. It’s alright. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you.”

He scooped her up, along with her blanket and the stuffed toy fox he had gotten for her (no sense in leaving that behind), and high-tailed it out of the window.

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin snuck a glance at the clock and tried to calculate exactly how long it would take Robin to get to the window, grab his daughter and get out. The man was a professional thief, so it shouldn’t take _that_ long; and the less time he had to spend in the company of this odious woman, the better. The scotch he’d been drinking earlier was starting to wear off, and bad memories bubbled to the surface of his mind. He shoved them down. He could last another few minutes.

Zelena was suspicious, but she was still buying the act. Rumplestiltskin pretended to sip the wine and then put his glass down on the table.

“You know, I do believe I forgot to congratulate you,” he said. “On the baby.”

Never mind that the thought of this woman raising a child was one of the most abhorrent Rumplestiltskin had ever had – and he’d had to live with Nimue for three hundred years. At best, she would turn into another Cora. At worst … well, he shuddered just thinking about it. Luckily for Diane, it seemed that Robin Hood was a much stronger man than Prince Henry had ever been. Shouldn’t be too much longer …

Zelena huffed, crossing her arms. “You didn’t come here just to congratulate me, Rumple. What do you want?”

“Who says I have to want anything?” he replied, faking innocence.

“You don’t do anything that’s not for your own gain,” said Zelena. “What are you doing here?”

Down the hall, there came the cry of a baby making happy noises that caught the sisters’ attention, shortly followed by the sound of a window thudding shut. Regina checked the monitor with a confused look – Rumplestiltskin had shut it off when they weren’t watching – and Zelena put two and two together. He smiled wryly as she went pale and charged down the corridor, opening the door with enough force that the walls shook. She was back in an instant, a bubbling ball of red fury.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

Rumplestiltskin grinned wider. The deal they had made in New York, unfortunately, still stood – he couldn’t harm Zelena by any means. But _technically_ , this wasn’t hurting her – he was just taking away something that she wanted.

“She’s safe from you.”

Zelena’s eyes may have popped out of her skull, and she lunged; Rumplestiltskin couldn’t stop himself from shying away, but thankfully Regina had jumped in between them. She held Zelena back – no small feat by any means – and then turned to face him.

“Rumple, what did you do?” Regina demanded. He smirked, and then whisked himself out of the house.

* * *

 

The dreamworld was different to last time. Instead of the Dark Castle, Belle was in a starlit park. She was in the same clothes she had gone to sleep in, including a lack of shoes. It was cold. A shawl appeared, draped around her shoulders. The soft cloth smelt just like Rumple, she was pleased to realise.

The park was … well, not quite Storybrooke’s main park. It looked similar, a wide open grassed area with the occasional old tree dotting the landscape. A gentle breeze bent the grass, and small waves lapped against the pond’s edge, bright starlight rippling in the water’s surface. Those stars were everywhere – not just in the sky, where the colours of the Milky Way gleamed like a nighttime rainbow, but in the trees, in the grass, in between the woven strands of Belle’s shawl.

She had to let out a gasp. It was beautiful.

“I like the swings,” said a familiar voice that made Belle smile. Gideon was behind her, gently rocking on a swing set underneath a magnificent maple tree. He’d changed his clothes, too; out of the golden robes he’d worn while masquerading as Morpheus into a simple blue tunic with a white undershirt, durable wool trousers and leather boots. If Belle cocked her head slightly and pictured him with longer hair, he was almost the spitting image of his father in Isaac’s alternative world. So handsome. Her boy.

“Hi, Mum,” said Gideon, giving her a little smile just like one of Rumple’s.

“Not ‘Mother’ this time?” Belle asked teasingly, taking a seat on the empty swing.

“It seemed a bit too formal,” he said shyly. She put a hand on his arm.

“It’s alright. I’m just teasing. I don’t mind either way.”

“Oh.” He chuckled lightly and sat up straight. “Okay.”

“Did you make all of this?” Belle gestured to the park around them, still struck by the beauty of the scene. She hadn’t seen a night sky like that one in years; since before the Ogres’ War, in fact, when smoke from the battlefield had always obscured the stars and turned the day into a blood-red canvas.

Gideon nodded. “Yes. I, uh, may have borrowed some of your memories to make it. I don’t actually know what the night looks like.”

“Well, we don’t normally have stars floating around us,” she said. One such star came bobbing past her, its faint white luminescence emanating from a silvery crystal body. She held out a hand to touch it and giggled because it tickled. “But it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

When Belle let the star go, it floated up into the tree and hung there, casting a faint glow over the mother and son duo. They watched it for a few seconds before Gideon asked: “Did you get my message on the boat?”

Belle chuckled in relief. “So that was you?”

He nodded.

“How did you know?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, pulling gently at his fingers. “He just gave me this … awful, horrible feeling. I don’t know how, but I just knew something was wrong.”

“A sort of precognition, maybe?” Belle suggested.

Gideon looked puzzled. “What’s a precognition?”

“It’s a sort of foresight, I guess,” she explained, feeling doubly relieved; so the twins didn’t know _everything._ “You can tell that things are going to happen before they do.”

“Oh.” He shrugged. “I guess so.”

Belle had a thought. “Is – is that why you tried to warn me away from your father? Because you thought something bad was going to happen?”

Gideon had started to rock on the swing, biting his lip while he looked down at his fingernails. “I – I thought he was dangerous,” he admitted in a small voice. “I was scared that he’d hurt you.”

“No,” said Belle, which made him look up. “No. Your father would never hurt me.”

“Are you _sure_?” Gideon pressed, looking desperate and worried. Belle took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze; that always worked with his father.

“Yes,” she assured him. “I won’t lie and say that your father hasn’t done some bad things, but he’s never hurt me. My choices were always mine. He never took that away from me or made me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

He was still staring, bottom lip whitening from the pressure he was putting on it and a faint glaze forming over his eyes.

“He’d never hurt you, either,” she added. “He loves you.”

Gideon’s fingers were tight over hers. He blinked; one tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. Belle wondered how he would react if she hugged him. He saved her the trouble of finding out by throwing both arms around her and holding onto her like a drowning man on a lifesaver. She shushed him gently and rubbed his back when he started to cry.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” he sobbed into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh. It’s alright. It’s alright.”

After a minute or two, he pulled back from the hug and wiped his face on his sleeve. Belle kept hold of his hand, and he squeezed hers in return.

“Mum, something is coming,” Gideon said after a moment, a funny look crossing his face. “Something bad.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. I just know that it’s coming.”

“Well,” she murmured, looking down at their entwined hands, “whatever it is, we’ll be ready for it. Me and your father. I promise; we’re not going to let anybody hurt you.”

Gideon gave that little smile again. God, he looked just like Rumple.

“Mum,” he whispered shyly, “do I have a name?”

Belle was puzzled. “You – you don’t know?”

“No. We – my sister and I, we try to stay out of your mind,” he said. “It – it’s rude.”

“Gideon.”

He blinked at her. She chuckled softly.

“That’s your name. Gideon.”

“Gideon?” he echoed quietly.

“Your father picked it.”

He thought for a moment, then smiled. “I think I like it. Can – can you tell him?”

She squeezed his hand again, leant over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I will.”

* * *

 

“The bathroom is down the hall. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” Rumplestiltskin told Robin while he deposited a set of sheets onto the bed. Robin had Diane carefully balanced in his arms, feeding from a bottle.

“Thank you,” he said, absolutely meaning it. Robin had been ready to take his chances in the woods, but Rumplestiltskin had found him and offered him the spare bedroom in his and Belle’s house. It was odd, and not an act of kindness that Robin would have associated with the Dark One. He couldn’t argue with the man’s reasoning – while under the Dark One’s roof, there was no chance that either Zelena or Regina could steal Diane back. But as for why –

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Rumplestiltskin said.

“Wait.”

He stopped in the doorway and turned around. Robin took a breath.

“You know, you never told me what the price of your help was.” There had to be one, Robin knew that as well as anyone – _magic always comes at a price._ Whatever it was, he was willing to pay it – anything was worth knowing that his daughter was safe, loved and being properly looked after.

Rumplestiltskin just gave a small smile. “You raise her well,” he said softly, and then left the room.

That was strange, Robin thought as the door shut. In his arms, Diane spat out the bottle and coughed. He lifted her onto his shoulder and contemplated Rumplestiltskin’s words. There had to be a price, surely.

Or had he wanted to see Diane out of Zelena’s hands as much as Robin had?

* * *

 

Rumple wasn’t at the shop when Belle passed it by – not that she’d really expected him to be there still, as it was well past eight o’clock – but neither was he answering his phone. So she headed for the house, figuring if he wasn’t sleeping in the lounge at Granny’s (he had done that a couple of times in the last week, much to the older woman’s amusement) then that was where he would most likely be. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw that lights were on in the guest bedroom and the kitchen. The door wasn’t locked, so she let herself in.

“Rumple?” she called. For him, it was still early, so he was probably still awake –

It turned out that he was. She spotted him sitting on the sofa facing the door. The lights were set to dim, but Belle could tell that he’d been crying. A bottle of his best scotch was sitting on the coffee table, an alarmingly little amount of liquid left in the bottom, and an empty glass precariously grasped in one hand. The other was holding a picture – it was the sonogram of their baby.

“Hey,” she said when she got closer, as he didn’t seem to have heard her come in. He jerked his head up, bloodshot eyes wheeling until they focused on her. The glass slipped from his hand as he stood up, wobbled slightly, and reached for her.

“You’re real?” he whispered, fingers gripping her shoulder the same way he’d done when they’d been reunited in Storybrooke the first time. She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah. I’m real.”

“Oh, _Belle!_ ” he gasped, moving quickly to wrap his arms around her. She did the same, the contact hopefully reaffirming her presence. As they stood there, he swayed gently, sniffling loudly with his face buried in her hair. He _stank_ of whisky. She pulled back – he was still sniffling – and held him at arm’s length, taking in his reddened eyes and the way he was still wobbling even though both of his feet were firmly on the floor.

“Are you drunk?”

He laughed, using the hand not holding the picture to sweep his hair out of his face. “Extremely.”

So that answered the question as to whether Dark Ones could get intoxicated. Belle held him steady while he took several deep breaths.

“I – I was afraid you weren’t coming back,” he murmured after a long time. She raised a hand to his cheek and brushed away the tear that had fallen there.

“Hey,” she said, making him look at her. “I promised that I would, remember?”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I know.”

* * *

 

“Come on, Rumple, it’s just a little bit further.”

He stumbled, hitting the step with the toe of his shoe, and Belle caught him before he fell down the stairs. He’d really done a number on himself. She had to stifle a laugh at what people would think if they could have seen the great and fearsome Dark One right now, drunk out of his skull and barely able to walk a crooked line. _He_ would certainly be embarrassed in the morning if anybody but his wife had seen him. Luckily, Rumple wasn’t the heaviest of men to begin with and Belle was able to half-walk, half-carry him back to their bedroom with minimal trouble. Getting him onto the bed was unceremonious; it was a bit like dropping a sack of potatoes. She hauled his legs up and then got to work untying his laces. His shoes slipped off easily, along with his socks. Belle unclipped his belt, only for Rumple to try and shove her hand away.

“No, not tonight, sweetheart,” he mumbled, slurring his s’s horribly. “Afraid I’d just be a huge disappointment.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just getting your belt off so you don’t hurt yourself in your sleep.”

“Oh.”

He still wasn’t particularly cooperative, tossing and turning at the worst moments, and it took her nearly ten minutes to finally get his belt and tie off. Once she was done, he turned over so that he was face-down on his pillow and started snoring gently. She rolled her eyes again. He would definitely hear about this in the morning.

A baby cried somewhere in the house. Belle blinked and shook her head, thinking she’d imagined it, but it cried again.

“What’s that?” she asked her near-comatose husband.

“It’s Ro – Ro – tha’ one,” he mumbled into the pillow, waving a hand pointlessly at the door.

She remembered the light in the guest bedroom. “Is somebody here?”

“Mmppppfffhh.”

Well, that was very helpful.

She followed the sound of the cries, steadily growing quieter, to the guest room, where the light was still on. The door was open and the room was a bit of a mess. It was fairly obvious that someone had packed away a lot of things in a short space of time; they hadn’t bothered to stash anything properly, just shoved it out of the way. The source of the noise was the baby girl wriggling on the bed with all four limbs in the air and her exhausted father partway through changing her.

Belle knocked on the door to announce herself. “Hey.”

“Oh, hi,” said Robin. “Sorry if I disturbed you; just trying to change her nappy.”

“That’s alright.”

He wrapped the soiled one in a plastic bag before chucking _that_ into another plastic bag hanging off the end of the bed. Diane cooed happily.

“Not that you’re not welcome, but what are you doing here?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Robin replied with a nod at the master bedroom.

“No,” said Belle, leaning against the door frame. “There’s an empty bottle of scotch sitting on my coffee table, and I’m guessing you didn’t drink any of it.”

“Ah.” He nodded understandingly, wrestling Diane’s wriggling legs to get her nappy secured. “Yeah, well, I – I asked him to help me get Di away from Zelena. He offered to let me stay here for a while, til I figure out what to do next.”

“You kidnapped her?”

He grimaced sheepishly. “More or less.”

“Oh, Robin.” Belle sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I had no idea things had gotten so bad.”

The last time they caught up, Robin told her that he and Regina had an argument; what about, Belle could only guess – although she had a pretty good idea, and it started with ‘z’ – but he had admitted that he’d stormed out in quite a huff. That was four days ago, and to Belle’s knowledge he hadn’t spoken to Regina since. Frankly, she couldn’t blame him for wanting Diane out of Zelena’s hands, even if that meant resorting to less than legal measures. Desperate parents did desperate things, as she knew all too well.

“It’s okay,” he said with a small smile. “You had problems of your own to deal with.”

 _A good friend still would have taken the time to check up on you,_ she thought quietly, feeling a little ashamed.

“What did Rumple want?” she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” That wasn’t possible; the Dark One always asked for something in return. To offset the cost of dark magic, Rumple had explained to her once – his demands kept the darkness in check and stopped worse consequences being enacted on those unable to pay the price.

“He didn’t want anything,” Robin affirmed with a shake of his head. “He said seeing her out of that witch’s hands was payment enough.”

Belle chuckled to herself. That made sense, although she made a note to check with Rumple once he was sober. They would have enough trouble from Zelena once it became clear that Robin wasn’t going to give his daughter back – actually, Belle was amazed that the witch wasn’t smashing down the front door right now; they didn’t need unexpected prices of magic coming down on them too.

“Where’s Roland?”

“With the lads. He’ll be alright with them for tonight.”

“You’re not worried that Zelena might go after him?”

Robin shook his head. “No. I still trust Regina enough to say she wouldn’t let that happen.”

Someone who hadn’t known him so well might have missed the hint of pain in his voice, but Belle didn’t. It was a rare instance that she ever felt as if she truly hated someone – Zelena was quickly ascending to the top of that very short list.

“I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Thanks. Fair warning; she’ll probably start screaming again in a few hours. Though it’ll be good practise for you.”

Belle laughed with him and then returned to the master bedroom. Rumple was snoring on his pillow, and that was still the case after she’d had a shower, brushed her teeth, picked a book from her to-read pile and found a set of pyjamas in the closet. Even though she’d been staying at Granny’s for a while, most of her things were still in the house. She settled under the covers – made difficult by the fact that Rumple was taking up rather more space than necessary – and opened the book. Three chapters in, mediocrity mounting quickly, she realised that Rumple was awake and staring at her. The alcohol hadn’t quite worn off, judging from how his eyes still weren’t focused.

“You came back,” he murmured, as thunderstruck as he had been earlier. She wondered if he even remembered her coming home.

Belle shut the book, put it on her nightstand and wriggled down so that she was level with him. “I told you: I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a long breath. A thought nagged at her, one that couldn’t wait until morning.

“Rumple … do you regret loving me?”

She’d brushed past his confession of why he’d gone to Jekyll, but it still worried her. They had been through a lot, after all.

But he shook his head. “No. No, I regret … so many things … a whole boatyard full of them … but not that,” he whispered haltingly, lifting a hand to drape across her belly. “If this was all we got … if our baby is all that comes from us being together … I’d still do it all over again.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

 _Would I?_ Belle asked herself, watching his eyelids slowly drop until they shut and his snoring resumed. Go through it all again; the heartbreak, the pain, the losses, the endless trials and judgements?

Yes. Yes, she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part V: Belle has a nightmare she doesn't know the meaning of, and the Blue Fairy is shady  
> Fair warning, next chapter is extremely anti-Charmings
> 
> Also, cos I got asked, the origin of Diane's name: it's a variant of Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt (like, _perfect_ for Robin's daughter), and a Latin name (or possibly Etruscan, but used by the Romans) continuing the pattern set by Cora and Regina


	5. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this chapter is where the anti-Charmings tag comes in. Don't say I didn't warn you

**_Six weeks later_ **

A month had passed since Belle and Rumple had repaired their fractured relationship, and moved back into the Victorian manor. They were in the process of moving all of the old antiques out of the house, starting early because they figured it would take the next six months to make the place safe for a baby.

Robin had moved into the apartment above the library three weeks ago, after Rumple had thoroughly protected it against Emma and the Mills sisters. With one drop of Diane’s blood, he could ensure that no locator spell would find her, and Robin was using the tunnels underneath Storybrooke to get around without detection. He was also working at the library as Belle’s assistant, partly because he needed the money and partly as a cover for why he was spending so much time around the library. It took some effort, but the subterfuge had paid off – Zelena still believed that Robin was keeping Diane at the Golds’. Belle knew that because she saw the witch walking past the house every morning and afternoon.

As much as Belle wanted to believe that Diane needed her mother, she couldn’t get her own daughter’s insistence that she stay far away from Zelena out of her head. She understood that Regina wanted to mend fences with her sister, but Belle had to wonder if the mayor was possibly a little blind-sided about the whole thing. Robin had told her some of the errors – _missteps,_ to put it politely – Zelena had made while Diane was in her custody. Admittedly, he was biased, but he had to put his daughter’s safety first regardless. Belle could certainly understand that. Not to mention that she hadn’t missed the many, many dirty looks Zelena had thrown her all throughout the last six weeks – a mixture of blind fury and something that almost seemed like jealousy. Over what, Belle wasn’t sure, and she was happy never to find out.

It also hadn’t missed Belle’s notice how the ‘heroes’ of the town hadn’t been by the library in weeks, with no urgent requests for assistance being dropped on her or her husband at the eleventh hour, or demands that Rumple deal with the newest villain on the block. To be frank, she didn’t mind it … at all, really. She felt better than she had in _months_ ; ecstatically happy to be expecting twins with the man she loved, working on getting the library up to scratch, and spending time with the best friends she had ever had. No, she didn’t mind at all.

“Here you go,” Ruby announced as she brought Belle and Robin’s order to their booth. “One battered fish with fries, no chicken salt, and one hamburger with extra pickles and a side of chopped cucumber.”

“Thanks, Ruby,” said Belle, giving her friend’s arm a squeeze. Ruby had come back from Oz just a week ago and dropped the bombshell that she had a girlfriend, Dorothy Gale, who was now working at the animal shelter. Belle knew there were more than a few people in town passing judgement – primarily the most old-fashioned noblemen, who believed that two women had no right engaging in a romantic relationship – but she had seen for herself how happy the two of them were together. And as far as Belle was concerned, that was all that mattered.

“You just let me know if there’s anything else you need,” Ruby insisted, flashing a smile before going to take someone else’s order.

“I didn’t know you liked pickles,” said Robin, giving her a look while Belle squeezed ketchup onto her burger.

“Actually, I hate them, but I think one of the kids got their father’s tastes in condiments,” she explained, pointing at her belly in explanation.

“Just one? How can you tell?”

“Because the other one starts doing flips whenever I eat them.”

“Ah.”

As they tucked in, the bell above the diner door jingled, and Belle let out a small sigh. Hook had just walked in with David; the two of them ordered coffees and then stood by the counter, waiting patiently. They spotted her and Robin; Belle gave them a slight glance and then looked away. The intended message was that the two men were _not_ welcome to come and talk to them, and thankfully they interpreted it correctly.

Since learning that it had been _Snow White_ , of all people, who’d sold her and her unborn baby out to Dr Jekyll, Belle was starting to re-evaluate her stance on some of the people she had once admired. It wasn’t any one thing – rather a whole lot of little things accumulated over time – that had pushed her to it, but the final straw had been Snow’s backhanded comment that Belle’s baby would be evil. As if the woman knew a single thing about Belle’s child, or apparently any understanding at all that evil was _made,_ not born.

It certainly didn’t help that Hook kept throwing sideways glares at her belly like he regarded her unborn children to be something disgusting like toad spawn, if not worse. And, although Belle had first thought she’d imagined it, she had caught Emma and David giving her similar looks in the past few weeks. When there were others – Granny, Robin, Ruby, Leroy and Astrid, to name a few – who seemed almost as excited as she was on her behalf then, well, Belle was fine having nothing further to do with the Charmings’ family clan. She wished that she didn’t feel that way, but Rumple insisted she shouldn’t feel guilty. They had made their choices, and she had to make hers.

“How’s the fish?” she asked Robin, continuing to ignore the men at the counter. He was picking at his food, she had noticed, and kept stealing glances out of the window in the direction of the clock tower. She nudged his elbow to get his attention.

“Hmm?”

“She’ll be okay,” said Belle, careful to keep her voice down. There wasn’t any such thing as too cautious, not in present company. “John’s got her. And you’ve been cooped up inside for how many days now?”

“Piece of advice, it’s not easy to have a social life when you have to look after a three-month-old,” Robin replied, with a glint of cheek in his eye. “And just the one is bad enough.”

“Which is exactly why your boss is treating you to lunch,” Belle countered, returning his cheek. The doorbell jingled again as Robin chuckled shyly, chasing a chip around his plate.

“I just wish this could be easier,” he admitted in a whisper.

“We all do,” she said, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze.

“If Regina just didn’t want to mend fences so badly, then maybe we could work something out. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to dictate her life or her family but when it’s _that_ woman –”

“Mr Hood,” greeted an unwelcome interloper, and Belle jerked her head up to see the Blue Fairy, a cheery smile all but plastered onto her face. “Ms French. How are you this morning?”

“Good,” Belle replied automatically in as neutral a tone as she could manage. Damn the rules of etiquette if Blue wanted to insist on using her maiden name, though she had long since gone back to using ‘Gold’ publicly again. Blue, in all her airy-fairy stuffiness, had made her feelings perfectly clear about Belle and Rumple’s decision to rekindle their marriage. Quite emphatically as well. Frankly, Hook had been less condescending. “Yourself?”

“Splendid,” said Blue. “And the little one? Quite healthy, I trust?”

“Quite,” she replied, returning her attention to her burger so that the fairy couldn’t see her face. That was the third time in a _week_ that Blue had approached her and asked after the health of the baby. Belle would have thought she was just being polite, but the head nun had _never_ displayed this much interest in her before.

“And Rumplestiltskin? Well enough?”

“Mother Superior, with all due respect,” Belle said slowly, putting her hamburger back down, “you’ve never once shown any regard for my well-being or my husband’s. What’s changed?”

“I am merely concerned for your welfare, child,” said Blue, throwing her that sickeningly maternal look. “I know that a first pregnancy can be frightening, especially when the mother has no-one to look to for guidance. I trust that you know that you’re always welcome at the convent should you require any assistance?”

“Thank you, but I think I can manage.”

Blue folded her hands in front of her and gave a small nod. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”

And then she left. Belle couldn’t help but notice that Hook and David seemed to leave _with_ her.

“Bloody snob,” Robin remarked, distracting her from that line of thinking.

* * *

 

When she got home that evening, Belle may have kicked her shoes off a little more energetically than she intended, sending one flying out of the foyer where it collided with something solid. That, of course, brought her husband into the room before she could wipe the scowl off her face.

“Hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Rumplestiltskin asked, wiping his hands on a tea towel. Belle wanted to smack herself. Or something, just to take her frustrations out on something that was not her husband, who didn’t deserve it.

“Nothing,” she mumbled half-heartedly. He saw straight through it, of course.

“You don’t normally take _nothing_ out on your shoes.”

Belle sighed and ran her hands over her forehead. “I’m just so sick of this,” she said, walking into his outstretched arms and hugging him tightly. “They look at me like I’m a piece of cheese they can’t decide whether to throw away because that one bit of speckling _might_ be mould. Or they pity me, thinking I’m some stupid girl who doesn’t know any better. I just want to _scream_ at them. And don’t you dare say that’s your fault, because it’s not.”

“I know what I am,” her husband replied softly.

“So do _I_ ,” she told him firmly, holding him at arm’s length so she could look him in the eye and make sure that he heard her. “ _You’re_ not the problem. Those narrow-minded twits _are_. I love you, I chose you, and I want to make our marriage work. But it doesn’t seem to make a bloody bit of difference. I could probably shout that I love you from the top of City Hall, and they’d _still_ think I’m just some deluded fool you’ve tricked into carrying your baby.”

“Sadly, that’s how some people think,” said Rumple with a small shrug. “I generally find that those people aren’t worth bothering with.”

“Not hating them for it is getting harder and harder,” Belle admitted quietly.

“Then you’re still a hundred times better than me. I just tell myself that they’ve brought it on themselves. I still say that.”

“I know, but –” Belle broke off as the smell of something delicious wafted out of the kitchen. She threw her husband a suspicious look; he grinned cheekily. “You baked?”

“I might have.”

She was the first person to admit that her husband was a lovely cook, but he’d once told her that he found baking rather boring. However, when he _did_ bake, whatever emerged from the oven was invariably elaborate and delicious.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, rapidly listing off important dates in her mental calendar. It wasn’t her birthday – that was in August, and Rumple didn’t know when his was. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day, and their anniversary wasn’t for another four months.

“Do I need an occasion to want to dote on my wife?” Rumple asked amorously, slipping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. She smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him. “Now, can I tempt away from your frustrations for a few hours? Because there are things I’d like to do tonight, and grousing about the populace of Storybrooke is not one of them.”

“Hmm.” She kissed him again.

“Besides,” he said between kisses, while ghosting a hand over her belly, “in about six months, we’re going to find romance very difficult to come by. We should take advantage of it while we can.”

He stood back and summoned a wine glass each with bubbling clear liquid.

“I can’t drink,” Belle reminded him.

“It’s soda, sweetheart,” he said, taking a sip while she giggled. “Now, would you please join me in the dining room so we can get the eating portion of the evening over with?”

“Eager, are we?”

“For you? Always – Belle?”

She’d dropped her glass as a sharp, jabbing pain hit her lower belly and she grabbed hold of his shoulder to keep from doubling over. He caught her and held her steady until the pain subsided.

“The twins?”

“I don’t know – aagh!”

It hit her again. Rumple had gone pale. “Okay. Come on, let’s get you to the hospital –”

Belle screamed and gripped Rumple’s jacket in one hand while the other was clasped firmly over her middle. Over her children. There was something _wrong,_ something terribly, terribly wrong –

Then her belly began to distend, growing exponentially to the size of a watermelon right before their eyes –

“No! No, no, this can’t be happening! This can’t be –!”

* * *

 

_Aaaaahhhh!_

Belle started awake and jolted into a sitting position, heart and lungs racing as her head swirled. On instinct, she moved her hands to her stomach – brushing Rumple’s hand aside as she did – just to be sure that the dream had been exactly that.

But everything was exactly as it had been when she fell asleep next to her husband. She was starting to show, not enough that anyone except Rumple would notice, with gentle flutters somewhere in the vicinity of her kidneys that told her one – or possibly both – of the kids had inherited their father’s sleep patterns.

 _You’re okay, little ones,_ she thought, rubbing circles over the top of her gown. _You’re okay. It was just a dream._

Then a second voice echoed in the darkened bedroom: _Don’t trust her, Mum._

“Gideon?” Belle murmured out loud, instantly recognising the voice of her unborn son. But there was no reply.

Beside her, Rumple stirred and reached for her in his sleep. Bumping his arm against her upright form, he woke; his eyes shot open and found her, widening with worry the instant he saw her face.

“The nightmare again?” he asked, his voice husky from sleep. He sat up, wrapping both of his arms around her.

“Yeah.”

“The same one or –”

“Same one. Last three nights,” she whispered. Repeated every night since the day she had lunch with Robin. She shook herself slightly, too tired to think about it. “It’s alright. Just go back to sleep.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

He wouldn’t; she knew him far too well to expect that, so she laid a kiss on his cheek and let him hold her close while she drifted off again.

_Mum. Don’t trust her._

* * *

 

The next morning, Belle couldn’t concentrate on her work with Gideon’s words playing over and over in her mind. While she helped unload a box of books for the Sunday school at the convent, she ran through the possible implications of the dreams and the warning. Unfortunately, there were a lot of ‘hers’ in Storybrooke, and Belle didn’t understand how she could suddenly go from three months pregnant to full term in a matter of minutes. Unless somebody drugged her the same way that Emma had done to Zelena –

“Oh, sorry!” she exclaimed as she nearly ran head-first into someone on her way out of the convent. She looked up; it was David. “Oh, hey. What are you doing here?”

“Uh, you know, just sheriff stuff,” said David, stuffing his thumbs in his pocket. “What about you?”

Belle held up the box. “Dropping off some things for the Sunday school.”

While David nodded, Hook appeared behind him. Belle avoided the pirate’s gaze.

“Well, I’d – I’d better get back to work,” she said.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely,” David agreed, stepping aside to let her pass. She tried to ignore the venomous glare from the pirate, poorly disguised as mild contempt, on her way, but it was hard. Two steps from the door, Belle stumbled, feeling a wave of nausea build up in her stomach. Her vision blurred. Something shiny, like a blade, appeared in front of her –

Belle turned her head slightly in Hook and David’s direction. Sunlight coming through the convent windows glinted off the pirate’s hooked hand –

She left as quickly as she could, fishing her phone out of her purse to call Rumple. He answered on the second ring.

“ _Hey, Belle_.”

“Hey, Rumple. Are you still at the shop?”

“ _Yeah. What’s the matter?_ ”

“I need to ask you something.”

“ _Okay_.”

“Not over the phone.”

Something in her tone must have concerned him, as it was a second or two before he responded. “ _Do you need me to come and get you?_ ”

“No, I’m alright to walk. Just, uh, can you make sure that we won’t be overheard?”

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin had known something was wrong when Belle called him; when she walked into the shop, the look on her face told him everything he needed to know. She also flipped the shop sign to ‘Closed’ and locked the door. Something was troubling her – a lot.

“Hey. What’s wrong?” he asked, walking around the counter to embrace her gently.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Anything.”

She shuffled uncertainly, like she wasn’t sure how to start the question. “Your, um, your power to see the future – how does that work, exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“How does it happen?” she clarified with a serious look. “Do you see, I don’t know, maybe flashes? Like a film reel? Or do you just get a feeling that you know what’s going to happen?”

“A little bit of both, I guess,” he said, then thought about how to explain it to her. “It’s a bit like doing a jigsaw puzzle. I get bits and pieces, sometimes across decades that slowly fill in the gaps of what I know. Or sometimes even replace the pieces. That’s the thing about the future – it’s not set in stone. It changes with every decision, every action we take.”

“Can it be inherited? Passed on to a child?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

She bit her lip before answering. “Because I think Gideon might be a Seer.”

* * *

 

In the end, it hadn’t taken much to convince Rumplestiltskin of her theory. It certainly explained a _lot_ , from Belle’s nightmares, to the fears their son had held about him, to how Gideon had been able to warn her when Dr Jekyll was coming after her. Still, there was no way to be sure, not without asking him – which was precisely what Belle intended to do.

Rumple, being a Seer himself with centuries of experience under his belt, might have better luck in figuring out what was going on, but he only knew of one way to enter a person’s dreams – the Sands of Morpheus – so that left Belle to swallow the sleeping draught he’d concocted. He gently laid her on the cot as she slipped back into the world of dreams, held her hand, and waited for her to wake when she had the answer they needed.

* * *

 

This time, the dreamworld took the form of the Golds’ own living room. There was a tea set on the table next to a small pile of paperbacks, and the curtains had been drawn back to reveal a beautiful spring day. Belle noticed that a vast collection of books had accumulated around the table and on the sofa as well. She smiled. _Good to know they didn’t get everything from their father._

She picked up the nearest paperback – a collection of children’s stories she remembered reading with her mother as a young girl – and flicked through the pages until a shout of triumph echoed through the room. She jumped and then looked around until she found her two troublemakers sitting at the dining room table around a chess board and the crumbled remains of a cheesecake. Despite the modern setting, both of them were still in their Enchanted Forest clothes. They were playing a game Belle didn’t recognise that involved a combination of chess pieces, chequers and cards.

It looked like it was Gideon’s turn, whatever that meant. He was glaring down at the board, tongue sticking out between his teeth in concentration while he wiggled his fingers over a knight. Finally, he made up his mind and moved it diagonally across the board. “Ha! Knight, to bishop seven! Full house to beat!”

“That’s what you think!” declared Gabi, who held a hand of cards and had her bare feet on the chair next to her. She held up a joker, which made Gideon scowl, and then moved a chequer. “Crown my king.”

Gideon slammed a hammer – procured out of apparently nowhere – onto the chequer piece; everything on the board jumped. “Gin!” he shouted happily.

“No gin. Settle for a soda?”

“Sure.”

She snapped her fingers, and a decanter appeared on the table with two glasses. Gideon downed one, and then said, “You’re cheating.”

“How can I be cheating? We don’t even know the rules.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Belle cleared her throat for attention.

“Mum!” Gabi squealed excitedly, throwing the cards aside in her hurry to leap up and engulf Belle in a hug.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, returning the hug enthusiastically. “How are you?”

“Good! Is there any of Dad’s cheesecake left?”

Belle fixed her daughter with a look. “You know that’s not healthy for either of us.”

“Aww.”

 _She is so your daughter, Rumple,_ Belle thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Not for the first time, she wished Rumple could have seen their daughter for himself. He would eventually, but sometimes she wondered if maybe he was a little jealous that she could see them – both of them – _right now_ , all grown up, and he couldn’t.

_Well, it comes in a package with morning sickness, cravings, cramps and – oh, Lord – labour. I don’t even want to think about that just yet._

She let go of Gabi to look at her son, who stood back, fidgeting with his hands the same way his father when he was uncertain. As she often had to do with her father, she took the initiative and stood on her toes to hug their boy.

“Cheesecake’s too sweet, anyway,” Gideon commented as they stepped apart. Gabi made a face, so he stuck his tongue out at her.

_Good Lord. They are going to be such a handful._

“So, uh, not that I’m complaining,” said her son, drawing out a chair for her, “but what are you doing here?”

“Actually, I needed to ask _you_ something,” Belle replied. Gideon sat down in the chair opposite, while Gabi climbed onto the table. “I’ve, um, been having some strange dreams. Incredibly vivid ones, that don’t really feel like dreams, and I was wondering if you two might’ve had anything to do with it.”

The glare that Gabi threw her brother told Belle that she had been right. “You had to do it, didn’t you?”

“She needs to know!” Gideon defended.

“That’s what you said last time!”

“I was just going off what I’d seen!”

“Yeah, and nearly made it come true in the process!”

“Hey!” Belle clicked her fingers twice for attention. “Back to me, please.”

“Sorry, Mum,” the twins said simultaneously.

Belle sighed. _A handful, indeed._ “Gideon, what exactly did you see?”

He bit his lip, brown eyes deep and thoughtful, and then held out his hands for her to take. Belle did so, and the scene instantly changed.

* * *

 

They were now in a room in the convent, clean white lights hurting Belle’s eyes as she adjusted from the dimmed lights of her house. Gideon was standing next to her, watching something that was happening in the room.

“This is what you saw?” Belle asked, looking at her son.

“Bits. I took me a while to put the pieces together.”

She nodded understandingly, and then turned to watch the vision.

* * *

 

_“This is getting out of hand,” Hook insisted, gesturing widely at the room. “We can’t just let the Dark One walk around town freely.”_

_“I agree,” said Snow, with a look at her husband. “I saw what he did to Doctor Jekyll. He can’t be reasoned with.”_

_“According to Robin, Jekyll was apparently threatening Belle,” said Emma, which earned her looks from both Hook and Snow._

_“Still not a reason to bash a man’s head in with an oar,” Hook growled._

_“Not to mention the baby,” Snow added. “Belle told me that it can talk to her. Now, I’m not disregarding the possibility that she’s lost her mind – it’s understandable, given everything she’s been through – but this the Dark One’s child we’re talking about here. And if it’s already powerful enough to manipulate its mother’s dreams, who knows what it’ll be capable of by the time it’s born?”_

_David, Emma and Regina each looked thoughtful while Blue and Hook nodded in agreement. David cleared his throat._

_“What if we locked him back up in the dwarf mines?” he suggested. “That worked once before. If the fairies added in their magic, do you think we could keep him contained indefinitely?”_

_“It’s possible, but there is a greater issue we must consider first,” said Blue. “We have to consider that the Dark One’s child will be a threat to the safety of the town.”_

_“I say we deal with the problem right now,” Hook declared._

_Regina gave him a look. “What do you suggest?”_

_“There are surgical procedures in this world capable of killing a child before it’s born without hurting the mother, right?”_

_“You want to make Belle have an abortion?” Regina exclaimed, looking shocked._

_“Why not? It deals with the threat and we can get back to the bigger problem: identifying the hooded figure from Emma’s visions.”_

_“I don’t think we need to get that drastic,” said David before Regina could retort. “What if we – I don’t know. Look, if we could get Rumplestiltskin locked up, then maybe we could convince Belle to give up the baby willingly. We give it to the fairies to raise.”_

_Snow looked doubtful. “Is that safe?”_

_“It’s safer than letting Rumplestiltskin have that baby," David replied._

_“What if she doesn’t give it up?” asked Hook._

_“I think the more important question is; what right do we have to take that baby away from her?” Regina cut in. “We have to remember, that’s Belle’s child too.”_

_“With all due respect to the little wife,” Hook said, barely disguising a sneer, “but she made her choice when she participated in the brat’s conception.”_

_“We can’t put one person ahead of the common good,” added David. He turned to Blue. “You’ll take the baby?”_

_The fairy nodded. “Of course.”_

_“Then it’s settled,” the sheriff said with finality. “I’ll get the dwarves started on the construction of another cage.”_

_Off to the side, Emma started shaking. She tried to hide it, but Hook noticed, drawing everyone’s attention. He held her by the shoulders._

_“Hey. We’ll find them, alright? Whoever this hooded figure is, they won’t stand up to us.”_

_Emma nodded uncertainly. Regina frowned, apparently having had a thought._

_“I … hate to be the one who goes there,” she said slowly, getting to her feet, “but what if the hooded figure is Rumple’s kid?”_

_“What?” several people asked._

_“Well, we don’t know for sure how far in the future your vision took place,” Regina explained. “And we have seen freakier things.”_

_“If it is the Dark One’s brat, then that’s all the more reason to get the thing safely locked away as soon as possible,” Hook interjected._

Shock started to swirl Belle’s vision, and she felt as if she could throw up. She let go of Gideon’s hand. The scene disintegrated.

* * *

 

Rumple was still holding her hand when she woke up in the shop, the clocks on the wall informing her that an hour had elapsed. Gideon’s warning played over in her head while Belle’s heart raced and she fought to get her breathing under control. She slid off the cot and managed to hold herself together long enough to throw up in the dustbin.

“Belle?” Rumple asked, wide-eyed. “What happened?”

She hugged her belly with her free hand, barely able to comprehend the thought. The town’s so-called ‘leaders’ were not taking her baby away, she told herself sternly, hardening her jaw. Not now, not ever.

“I think we might be in more trouble than we thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part VI: Belle works on figuring out exactly what the Blue Fairy has in mind for her children, and someone pays a visit to Storybrooke.
> 
> My muse has been going nuts on this story after the last episode. Now I finally know how the main act of the second half goes, so expect fairly frequent updates!


	6. Part VI

**_Two weeks later_ **

A stack of books went thud as Robin accidentally toppled a pile while trying to stop another lot from falling to the floor, and Belle sighed. For someone who was so sure-footed in a forest, he was downright clumsy in a library. That was his ninth stack in less than an hour. It would not have been so terrible, though, if the noise hadn’t woken Diane and the sleep-deprived four-month-old chose to deal with that problem by screaming like a baby banshee.

“Di!” Robin groaned. He dumped two books on the sorting trolley before scooping his daughter out of her crib. Belle left him to it and walked around the counter to finish cleaning up the mess. One of the twins nudged her in the kidneys as she bent over. Ever since Robin had moved into the library to hide Diane, Belle had wondered exactly what she had gotten herself into. And he only had to deal with _one._

 _I suppose at least I’ll have Rumple with me when the time comes,_ she thought. _Poor Robin has to do this all by himself._

She was honestly amazed that the subterfuge was still working – another two weeks had gone by, and there wasn’t the slightest hint that anybody had figured out where Robin was really keeping his daughter. Oh, the Mills sisters had certainly tried, and even David had given Robin a stern talking-to, but if there was one good decision that Emma had made lately, it was _not_ to arrest an anxious father looking out for his daughter’s best interests. Even if _technically_ , it had been a kidnapping.

It probably didn’t hurt that now everyone knew Robin had Rumplestiltskin backing him – both legally and magically – and even Regina wasn’t foolish enough to confront the Dark One directly. Belle knew there would be backlash, but at the moment she had her own children to protect.

Belle didn’t want to believe that the Charming clan would really force her to give up her baby, or kill them before they were born – although she had no trouble believing that of _Hook_ , certainly. She still held out hope that Gideon had been wrong. He _had_ been wrong before, about his father being a danger to her and the twins. But then he had also been _right_ before, about Doctor Jekyll attacking her on the Jolly Roger.

And the worst part of it was that Belle did believe the Charmings really had it in them to go through with their plan.

“Oh, Di,” Robin murmured as the baby continued to fuss, gently bobbing up and down in an attempt to soothe her. The poor man hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in almost three months. “Belle, I’m sorry –”

“It’s not a problem,” she told him quickly while collecting the books off the floor. “Take care of your daughter.”

She really didn’t want to make him feel bad – especially as he had no place else to go – but it was inconvenient having a screaming baby in the library all the time. Particularly since Belle was already frustrated, having made no progress at all on the project currently consuming every moment of her and Rumple’s waking hours – how to stop the Blue Fairy from getting her hands on their children. It had been two weeks since Gideon delivered that ominous warning, and Belle had come up with exactly _nothing._ Well, except Blue’s centuries-old feud with Rumple, which didn’t really help.

Once she was done with the books, and Diane was almost settled, Belle stood in front of the counter with her arms crossed, tapped a piece of chalk against her chin, and glared at the blackboard on the wall opposite. A few days ago, Rumple had found some old history books in the back of his shop, written in an archaic fairy script. Delving into history didn’t seem helpful, but Belle had exhausted most other avenues, so she had devoted herself to studying the history of the fairies to try and better her understanding of them. The one she was currently working on was a detailed recount of the last Fae War, approximately eight hundred years ago, but there was one particular chapter that refused to translate into anything meaningful. And she had a feeling that _this_ passage could provide her with some answers; if she could just _translate_ the bloody thing.

“Any luck?” Robin asked, hopping onto the desk beside her. He had Diane cradled in his arms, fighting sleep and playing with the buttons on his cardigan.

“No.” Belle sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Aw, come on –”

“I’m serious! I’ve tried every variant of the fairy language I can find, and all I’ve come up with is gibberish. And I’m hungry.”

Robin sniggered.

“Don’t you dare laugh –!”

_“I think it translates better as ‘guardian’s final resting place’.”_

Belle frowned at Robin. “What did you say?”

_“Testing, testing. One, two, three –”_

Out of thin air, a column of glittering gold that smelt faintly of oranges shimmered in front of the blackboard, slowly morphing into the shape of a human body until Belle’s son appeared before them. Gideon looked left and right, then locked eyes with a pale-faced Robin – who could also see him, Belle realised with a jolt – and asked, “Can you see me?”

“Uh, yes?” Robin held Diane a little closer and looked to Belle, clearly confused. She didn’t blame him.

“Oh, good, it worked! Anyway, as I was saying –”

“I’m sorry, not to be rude or anything,” Robin interrupted, “but who the bloody hell are you?”

“Robin, this is – this is my son,” said Belle, feeling oddly calm despite the bizarre circumstances. “Gideon, this is Robin.”

Gideon waved. “Hello.” He was in Storybrooke clothing, she noticed – dark jeans and a black hoodie over a navy t-shirt – but no shoes, and when she stepped forward to hug him, her hand went straight through his arm.

“Oh, yeah, I’m not really here,” he said, putting a hand through the blackboard to demonstrate his point. “Well, I’m here in the sense that I’m still in there–” he gestured at her belly– “but this is just an apparition.”

“I’m dreaming?” Belle asked.

“Uh, no. That doesn’t seem to be necessary anymore –”

“Wait just a bloody moment!” Robin suddenly interjected, slipping to the floor – much to Diane’s annoyance – and pointing an accusatory finger at Gideon. “How the – what the – how the bloody hell can you be here?”

“You’d have to ask Dad about that. I’m not really an expert –”

“No, no, no, what I meant is – how can you just appear like this?”

Gideon frowned, looking from him to Belle and back. “You mean this isn’t normal?”

She shook her head. “Not really, no.”

“Oh.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry. No wonder I frightened you.”

“It’s alright,” she said, giving him a smile. It was strange, yes, but then so had most things since Rumple entered her life. Belle saw no reason why her progression into motherhood should be any different. And it was always good to see her kids, odd as it was to have them appear about the same age as herself. “Is Gabi coming?”

“No. We thought until we figured out exactly what this does – you know, side effects and such – we’d just do this one at a time.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” she agreed with a nod. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh, right.” Her son cleared his throat, then turned to face the blackboard and pointed to a line of fairy script. “You translated this phrase as _‘the place of the long-sleeping guard’._  I was wondering if it might work better as _‘guardian’s final resting place’._ ”

“ _You_ can read this?” Robin exclaimed, staring open-mouthed at him.

“As much as Mum can.”

When Robin turned to her in dumbfounded incredulity, Belle could only offer him a shrug. Even Rumple had been surprised by the amount of magical ability their twins already seemed to possess. So far he didn’t have a concrete explanation, just a vague theory involving the origins of Emma’s Saviour magic, and potentially some inherent power from Rumple himself, or a conglomeration of their magic caused by the fact that they were twins. Personally, Belle had found that staying nonchalant was the best way to cope – it was either that or panic, but she didn’t think that would help anyone.

“Well, we can come back to this later,” she suggested as her stomach growled. “Right now, I’m hungry, and I think your father would like to say hello. You should probably put some shoes on.”

“Huh?”

She pointed to his bare feet. He looked down, puzzled, and then mouthed ‘oh’ when he realised the problem. A pair of dark trainers appeared on his feet. “Is that better?”

“Much. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

* * *

 

Leaving Diane was something Robin still had to get used to, but he knew he had to do it or he’d go mad from staying shut up indoors all the time. And he was hungry too, so he called Little John and asked him to watch her for a few hours while Robin took Roland to Granny’s. The overall trip took much longer than it should have. Since nobody had seen Robin entering the library that morning, he had to carry Diane all the way through the tunnels to the one that ran underneath Rumplestiltskin’s house, swap children with John, and then climb through the hole in the basement floor so he could be seen leaving the manor. It was all much more complicated than it should have been, but necessary. The longer they could keep up the guise that Robin was staying with the Golds, the better.

Roland was still young enough that he thought the whole thing was just one big game, which Robin supposed was a blessing. And he seemed to understand that Papa was trying to keep his baby sister safe from someone who wanted to hurt her, though Robin had yet to find a way to explain to him that the person in question happened to be Diane’s mother. Roland would not have understood, and he was already confused as to why Robin hadn’t spoken to Regina in nearly two months.

 _That_ was the one thing Robin did regret about the whole situation. As he paid Granny for a burger and spaghetti with toast (Roland’s favourite), he spotted Belle and Rumplestiltskin in the booth furthest from the door, talking with the apparition of their son (still something Robin was trying to wrap his head around) and laughing. He tried not to notice when his heart clenched or remember just how much he missed Regina, instead focusing on Diane. His daughter’s welfare came first, and for as long as Regina continued to defend her sister, Robin just couldn’t face her.

Especially if the Charmings were planning to move against the Golds the way Belle feared. The thought made Robin sick to his stomach, worse if Regina actually intended to help them. He hardly called Rumplestiltskin his friend, but the man had helped him to get Diane away from Zelena, given him a place to sleep and his wife was now Robin’s employer. Damn him to hell if Robin was going to let the Charmings hurt them or their kids.

Robin fished some coins out of his pocket and laid them on the table to play a game with Roland while they waited for their order. His son had just managed to flick a nickel into a goal marked by the salt-and-pepper shakers when the door to the diner opened with a jingle, and Robin stifled a groan.

“Stay here,” he said to Roland, catching Belle’s eye in the booth opposite and silently asked her to watch his son before he stormed out to force the sisters to talk outside. This had happened a few times, and he wasn’t having the conversation within earshot of his son.

“Once again, Zelena, she’s safe, somewhere you’ll never get to her,” he snapped before the witch could say anything.

“What did you do, leave her with the Dark One?” Zelena screeched, and Robin fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Better Rumplestiltskin than a monkey,” he retorted, deliberately not mentioning John’s name. She might have been nuttier than squirrel poo, but he knew Regina wouldn’t let her hurt his friends as long as it looked like the lads weren’t involved.

Regina put a hand on her sister’s arm and gave her a look. Whatever passed between them, Zelena went inside and left them alone. Robin looked at his feet. It had been months, but he still couldn’t meet Regina’s eyes.

“Come on, this is getting ridiculous.” She reached out to touch him, and he jerked away. As he did, his right sleeve rolled up, revealing the black mark on his wrist until Robin rammed the sleeve back down. He didn’t even want to look at that accursed tattoo right now. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you. I don’t trust her to raise my daughter, not after everything she’s done.”

“She’s changed!” Regina exclaimed. “She’s trying. Having Diane can help her turn her life around, I know it!”

Robin tried not to scoff and failed. “Really? Has she given you _any_ evidence whatsoever to prove that?”

“You have to give her the chance!”

“I don’t have to give her a bloody thing!” he snapped. He ground his teeth together, focused his gaze on the bridge of Regina’s nose so he didn’t have to look her in the eye, and then added in a quieter tone: “Remember who _really_ defeated Hades, Gina.”

Oh, Zelena had _helped_ , sure, at the last damn second, but at the end of the day, it had been Robin who brought the doey-eyed god to his knees and sent him packing back to the Underworld.

Regina sighed. “Robin,” she pleaded, “what does she have to do to prove that she can be trusted?”

“She can’t,” Robin answered automatically. Unable to be near her anymore, he pushed past her to re-enter the diner, gave Roland a weak smile and proceeded straight to the bathrooms. Not to go, but to be alone so he could hit something. The wall held up, thankfully, until his knuckles were bloody and pain overwhelmed his rage.

The witch’s goal had been to drive a wedge between them. Well – as much as Robin hated to admit it as he laid his forehead on the cold mirror – it looked as if she had succeeded after all.

* * *

 

“Can I get you anything else?” asked a chatty blonde waitress. A Miss Locke, if Rumplestiltskin remembered correctly.

“No, thank you,” he said as she replaced Belle’s iced tea. She smiled, then turned to Gideon, who (being the apparition of an unborn child) hadn’t ordered anything.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything?”

Gideon looked up as if surprised that somebody was talking to him. “Uh, no, I’m alright. Thank you.”

The waitress cocked her head, looking at him curiously. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

“Uh –”

Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat for attention. “That’ll be all, Miss Locke.”

The waitress left, though she did peek back over her shoulder as she walked to the counter. She looked disappointed to see that Gideon had ducked, trying to hide from sight (difficult for someone who was six feet tall).

“That was weird,” he said.

“Unfortunately, not really,” Rumplestiltskin told him, while feeling grateful that the servers at Granny’s were at least a little more composed than those elsewhere in town – such as the Rabbit Hole. Advanced though his boy was, there were obviously things he was still clueless about (perhaps thankfully) and if he and Gabi kept appearing like this, Rumplestiltskin could see himself having to explain a lot of things. At least it was easy to chase away the gossipy waitresses – he did have a reputation as the darkest monster in the Enchanted Forest for a reason, after all.

“I’m just going to duck to the bathroom,” Belle murmured in Rumplestiltskin’s ear, pushing her tea to one side as she got up. He nodded, tried not to blush when she pecked him on the cheek, and then turned to watch her walk away. It was still unbelievable to him that, after everything, they had actually managed to work things out. Oh, it had involved a lot more honesty he was used to and long, arduous nights dragging out too many things he would much rather just forget, but even just the smile she shot his way was worth every second of it. And being with her, watching her slowly grow round in the belly with _his_ child inside – two of them! – was like a glimpse of heaven.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” He turned back to see his son giving him a strange look and pulling on his little finger the same way that Baelfire used to when he had awkward questions. Thinking of his elder boy made Rumplestiltskin’s heart wrench – the loss was still so recent, and without the silly Morpheus robes, Gideon’s resemblance to his older brother was painfully uncanny.

“I – I wanted to say I’m sorry,” his son stammered, staring determinedly at the table. “For what I did at the Temple.”

“Oh.” In all honesty, Rumplestiltskin hadn’t thought much of the incident in months. “Well, that’s alright.”

“No, it’s not –”

“You were trying to do right by your mother,” he insisted. “That I can forgive. And it’s all fixed now, so no harm done.”

Gideon looked up and grinned shyly. “I’m still sorry.”

“Well, I am too,” said Rumplestiltskin, which made Gideon frown. “For putting any of you in danger in the first place.”

He reached out to touch his son’s hand – in spirit at least – and thanked whatever god it was (probably not Hades) who had seen fit to give him another chance with his family.

* * *

 

After Robin had stormed off, Regina remained outside in a daze, trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened. Yes, she’d known Robin was mad – but until now, she hadn’t realised _how_ mad.

Although now that she let herself think of it, given what Zelena had done to him that led to Diane’s existence in the first place –

She wanted to tell herself that it was all in the past, that she had done far worse and been forgiven for it. But now she was starting to realise that maybe the forgiveness in this instance wasn’t hers to give –

However, she spotted something down the street that chased the thought completely out of her mind.

Blue and a couple of other fairies had just rocked up outside the diner, along with David. As the fairies walked straight inside, Regina glimpsed Blue’s wand sticking out of her sleeve. The head nun threw her an austere look; Regina grabbed David’s arm and pulled him aside.

“They’re doing this _now_?” she whispered. She’d known it was coming, but hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

“We’ll never get a better opportunity,” David replied.

He followed the fairies into the diner, leaving Regina to stand there in her second shock of the day. It was too soon. She couldn’t do this. No matter whose baby this was, no matter what its father was or what he had done, this wasn’t right. No. She couldn’t let this happen.

Regina did her best to appear calm as she marched through the diner. Belle wasn’t with her husband (who was talking to a strange young man Regina didn’t recognise), so Regina headed for the bathrooms. She caught Belle leaving the women’s room and dragged her inside before anybody saw them.

“What are you doing?!”

“Listen,” Regina started, planting her foot against the door. “We don’t have a lot of time. You need to grab your husband and get out of here.”

“What?”

She glanced at the door. “If you want Rumple to live to see your baby born, grab him and _go_!”

Belle’s eyes went wide with realisation, and she practically shoved Regina down in her hurry to leave. She made it four feet outside the door before she gasped and doubled over in pain. Regina caught her before she hit the floor. Belle was whiter than a ghost, eyes wide with panic, and clutching her stomach like her life depended on it.

“What the hell did you do?!” Robin demanded, all but running out of the men’s room.

“I didn’t do anything!” Regina shouted as Belle screamed. Robin raced to her side, and Regina stood back, her heart hammering in her throat.

_Oh, gods._

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin finished off the last of his hamburger and was partway through explaining automobiles to his extremely curious son when somebody interrupted. “Gold?”

 _Oh, great,_ Rumplestiltskin groaned. “Well, if it isn’t our lovely sheriff and her lapdog. Come to pick out a new collar, have we?”

“Regina’s been trying to figure out how to get Dopey out of his tree form. Can you help her?” Emma asked quickly, though she couldn’t cover up Hook’s scowl. At least neither of them seemed to have noticed Gideon.

“Attempting to win back the town’s favour are we?” Rumplestiltskin retorted, planting his elbows on the table and looking the Saviour straight in the eye. She swallowed audibly; she knew exactly what he meant.

He had been sorely tempted to rip the Charming clan’s hearts out through their throats after Belle told him what they were planning to do to their baby. He’d refrained because that he knew the people of Storybrooke were on tenterhooks as far as the leadership of the town went. Leroy had been kind enough to inform them of Charming’s request for the dwarves to build another cage, which had made Rumplestiltskin laugh with wild derision. All these years, and it seemed that Charming still didn’t understand that Rumplestiltskin could have walked out of that prison any time he liked. Nonetheless, the request was none-too-politely turned down by the dwarves, and Rumplestiltskin suspected that the sudden interest in the dwarf-turned-tree trapped on the town line was merely their attempt to win back the their approval.

Well, it would take much more than that, as it wasn’t just the dwarves who had expressed dissatisfaction with the town’s leadership. Robin was no longer speaking with any of them and neither were any of the Merry Men. Rumplestiltskin had seen Granny giving all of them the evil eye she had once reserved for him, and even young Miss Lucas seemed to be going out of her way to avoid them. Oh, the self-proclaimed heroes still had their supporters but they were dwindling quickly; so Rumplestiltskin refrained. To attack them now would simply give them the ammunition they needed to prove that he was still a monster, whereas if he waited, it would expose the heroes for the hypocrites they had become.

“That mess is your fault, Crocodile,” Hook snapped.

“Seeing as how I was trapped in a magically-induced coma at the time, that is unlikely,” Rumplestiltskin retorted. “I seem to remember Belle informing me that it was _you_ who cast that particular curse.”

“If you had just died and kept the darkness stuck in New York like an honourable man would have done, none of this would have happened,” Hook snarled. “It’s your pathetic cowardice that brought it back.”

“Seriously?” Gideon interrupted, jabbing a thumb at Hook while scowling at Emma. “You went to the _Underworld_ for this load of walking fertiliser?”

Rumplestiltskin beamed proudly as Hook started, noticing Gideon for the first time. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

“He’s visiting, and you’re intruding,” Rumplestiltskin said bluntly. “So if you don’t mind –”

“Look, Gold,” Emma growled, uncrossing her arms to put her hands on her hips. “I don’t like this either, but you have to live in this town, and so does your wife for that matter –”

But before she could say something for which Rumplestiltskin would not regret tearing her to pieces, Gideon gasped and doubled over, holding his stomach in pain. Panic gripped Rumplestiltskin as his son cried out a second time.

“Mum,” Gideon gulped, looking at his father with fearful brown eyes. “Something’s wrong.”

The moment Rumplestiltskin stood up, Hook lunged, followed by Charming. But with his wife’s safety on the line, Rumplestiltskin was done playing nice, and blasted the deputy and the pirate away so that they hit the floor with a satisfying thud. He shoved Emma aside and ran in the direction of the bathroom, only to find Belle halfway down the hallway, hunched over on the floor in front of Regina, with one white hand gripping Robin’s jacket and the other clutching her belly. Which was a _lot_ bigger than it had been five minutes ago, and growing exponentially.

“No, no, no,” his wife whimpered as he knelt and put an arm around her. “This can’t be happening!”

He could feel the magic now, a distinctive taste of rust and wild heather with which Rumplestiltskin was all too familiar.

“Rheul Ghorm,” he growled, pulling away from his wife to look around the diner. Sure enough, next to the counter was the elder fairy, wand raised and magic crackling all around her.

_So Gideon was right._

Rumplestiltskin glowered at the blue bug. Damn it, why hadn’t he tested Belle’s food? They had been so careful up to this point. The darkness, which he had spent so long suppressing, reared its ugly head again as rage built inside of him and he prepared every horrible curse he could think of to throw at the supercilious insect –

“RUMPLE!”

Regina’s cry made him stop, and he looked to his former student, who was pointing at something further down the hall. It was two more fairies – Cyan and Violet, from the looks of them – with their wands drawn and almost out of sight in the shadows.

 _A trap,_ Rumplestiltskin realised. The fairies were there to steal Belle away while he fought Blue – because what she really wanted were his children. He could have kicked himself. She didn’t care about getting him locked back up, no matter what the heroes wanted. She _had_ to know that the cage wouldn’t work on him, not when he had no reason to stay there; she just wanted the twins.

As much as the darkness screamed at him to stay and fight, he needed to get Belle out of there. So rather than bothering with anything intricate, he threw up a shield of raw power, felt spells impact it from all sides, and held his wife close as he teleported them and the outlaw away from the diner.

* * *

 

Regina was thrown into the wall by the impact of Rumple’s shield. She lay there dazed; for how long, she couldn’t tell, but she eventually became aware of a burning sensation on her forearms and the fact that both of her shoes had been knocked off. She didn’t even care. In fact, she was almost laughing.

_They got away._

Blue rounded the corner along with David and Hook, who she was happy to see sporting a sizeable bruise on his jaw.

“Regina, what did you do?” David demanded at the same that Hook shouted:

“You let the Crocodile get away?!”

She stayed on the ground. Her arms really did hurt, but she was still giggling manically. Rumple was smart. No doubt he would take Belle to wherever he had been hiding Diane – if Regina and her sister combined couldn’t find the place, then the Blue Fairy had no chance. The baby would be born in safety, and then the two of them would leave town. The sooner, the better.

“You signed off on this, Madam Mayor,” Blue reminded her with a murderous scowl.

“Actually, I didn’t,” Regina replied.

“You let the Crocodile _get away_!” Hook yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth.

“Yeah. I did.”

“I think the question he’s asking is _why,_ ” said David with his hands on his hips. Regina scowled at her stepson-in-law.

“What right do either of us have to take a baby away from its parents? No matter who its father is,” she spat at him with contempt. She didn’t know what had gotten into Snow and David lately, but she didn’t like it. They knew what it was like to lose a baby. Regina remembered all too painfully how it had felt when Emma had threatened to take Henry from her, the way she had reacted and nearly killed Henry in the process – not to mention how badly she wanted to see her niece again.

Blue was fuming, almost on the verge of exploding, and pointed a shaking finger at Regina. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

“I don’t care,” said Regina simply. “It was the right thing to do.”

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin’s magic deposited them in the flat above the library. The hospital wasn’t safe, and he was willing to bet that Blue had laid a trap around the manor in case he took them back there. The apartment was already protected to the best of his abilities. It would stand up against a combined siege from the Mills sisters and masked all traces of anyone inside. He hadn’t tested it against Blue, but it should hold. He hoped.

The moment they landed, he scooped Belle into his arms and carried her to the bed while Robin jumped into action. He heard the man bark orders at his big friend, something about clean towels and boiled water, and then told him to fetch the boy from the diner. Rumplestiltskin left him to it. All he could focus on were Belle’s fingers crushing his hand, the way her body wracked with sobs and she screamed with each contraction.

“It’s too early!” she cried. His fingers felt like they were about to pop off, but if that was what she needed of him then he could endure it. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered while stroking her hair and holding her close. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I promise nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. I know.”

He laid a kiss on top of her head and held her tighter. He shut his eyes and concentrated; just a little bit of magic, enough to ensure that the twins arrived safely without putting their mother’s health at risk.

“Have you done this before?” Rumplestiltskin asked Robin as he came into the bedroom with his arms full of towels and a bowl that smelt strongly of antiseptic. Belle screamed as another contraction hit her and he kissed her ear, trying hard not to panic. Despite his reputation as a baby snatcher, Rumplestiltskin had never actually _delivered_ a child in his life.

“A couple of times,” said Robin, putting his hand on Belle’s swollen stomach. “I don’t suppose you could stop this, could you?”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. He could have stopped it if he had to, but that would only increase the risk to Belle and the children. Better to let the magic run its course, and deal with the fallout when everyone was stable.

“Right then.”

As the outlaw set about cleaning his hands and a kitchen knife as best he possibly could, Rumplestiltskin stroked his wife’s hair and told her to breathe. He had no idea what he was doing; he just hoped his presence would be enough to keep her calm.

“I’m scared,” Belle sobbed again, crying against his neck.

He kissed her forehead. “I know. But it’s gonna be okay. I’m here, okay? Nobody can get to us here; nobody’s gonna hurt them. Okay? I promise.”

She whimpered, clutching him close. Rumplestiltskin understood; he didn't really believe that himself.

* * *

 

“Here we go,” Robin declared twenty minutes later when a piercing cry announced the arrival of the first baby. Belle collapsed against Rumplestiltskin, breathing heavily from exhaustion. He cradled her in his arms, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from their child.

“Belle,” he murmured, shaking his wife gently. “Gabi. Gabi’s here.”

Their daughter was kicking and screaming, making clear her displeasure at being rudely shoved into a strange world. The moment Belle laid eyes on her, exhaustion was forgotten, and she reached out for her baby.

“Robin … give me … please …”

She was too tired to say much more, but Robin just smiled and laid the baby on her mother’s chest. Gabi quietened the moment Belle held her, and Rumplestiltskin stared down at the perfect little human he and his wife had made together with amazement as he had never felt it before. He had to admit, he’d been so jealous that Belle was able to see Gabi when he couldn’t. But now he could, and it was no small amount of satisfaction that he realised she would look like her mother. Thick, dark hair covered her scalp and her eyes, like all newborns, were a soft shade of blue. He already knew that Gideon’s eyes would be brown like his own; he wondered if Gabi’s would stay blue, like her mother’s.

He wanted to hold his daughter more than anything in the world, but he forced himself to wait. After everything Belle had just been through, she had earned the right of first cuddle.

Seven minutes later, Gideon followed his sister, and Rumplestiltskin began to panic again. His son was so much smaller than Gabi, and bluer, and hardly moved at all. Robin took it in stride and put the boy over his shoulder, gently rubbing his back until Gideon let out one long wail, and both of his parents cried in relief.

“He’s so little,” Belle murmured sometime later, stroking their boy’s cheek with a delicate finger. Rumplestiltskin lay next to her with Gabi asleep on his chest and grunted in agreement. He laid a hand on Gideon’s head, just to reassure himself that his son was still okay. His colour was improving, and he was healthy as far as Robin, in all his limited experience, could determine, but Belle was right – Gideon was tiny. Rumplestiltskin indulged himself in a small chuckle at the irony that this wee human would eventually tower over both of his parents.

So small. And so _vulnerable._

As he lay next to his wife, heart swelling with the amount of love he felt for her and their children, his curse was almost quiet. Quiet enough that he could think clearly, and suppress the urge to wring the Blue Fairy’s neck with his own hands. And realise that he couldn’t solve this problem with power – undoubtedly, that was exactly what the bug wanted. To draw him into a fight and incapacitate, or at least distract him, while she tried to lay hands on the twins. What for, he had no idea, but it was a chance he was no longer willing to take. Rumplestiltskin had chosen power over a child once and paid for it dearly. No more.

He wriggled into a sitting position while trying to keep Gabi asleep, and leant against his wife. That was when he realised she was crying.

“Hey. What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t understand,” Belle sobbed, cuddling their son as close as she could. “How could anyone ever want to hurt something so innocent?”

“I don’t know,” Rumplestiltskin admitted, looking down at his daughter. Blue was a lot of things, but not a baby-snatcher. The only conclusion he could draw was that she wanted them because they were _his_ children. Once again, his enemies had gone after those he loved to hurt him. And now the ‘heroes’ of the town were helping her. The thought of raising Gideon and Gabrielle in such a hostile environment –

“We have to leave, don’t we?” Belle said suddenly, turning to look at him. For the first time, Rumplestiltskin realised what fatigue had been disguising. She was scared, more so that he had ever known her to be. Sure, she’d spent two weeks trying to figure out the fairy’s plans, but to actually have that fear play out, right in front of her eyes, _and_ to have people Belle once trusted with her life actually try and _help_ – Rumplestiltskin realised with a jolt how that had shattered her. She was as terrified as he was.

“We do,” he agreed. “Tonight.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, Belle sat in the armchair out in the living room and anxiously watched the sun slowly dip below the horizon. Nighttime could not come fast enough for her; the sooner they got the twins out of town, the better. Rumplestiltskin was circling the room, keeping Gabi occupied while Belle awkwardly figured out how to feed their son. Thankfully, Gideon seemed to know what he was doing, so she left him to it.

“ _The bogie man’s awa’, the dancers rise and fa’, an the howlet’s cry frae the bour-tree high comes through the mossy shaw,_ ” Rumplestiltskin recited softly in his thickest brogue while gently stroking their daughter’s hair. It stuck straight up like a parrot’s crest now that it was dry, which Belle found amusing in her state of total exhaustion. “ _Sleep well, my bairnie, sleep. The lang, lang shadows creep, the fairies play on the munelict brae, an the stars are on the deep._ ”

Gabi gurgled happily as her father finished, banged a clenched fist against her father’s chest and made both of her parents giggle.

“She must remember that,” said Rumple, grinning proudly from ear to ear. His words gave Belle another thought.

“Do you think they’ll remember any of this?” she asked, suddenly concerned until Rumple shook his head.

“I doubt it,” he said. “Magic or not, they’re only wee babbies.”

Gideon finished his meal with a wet pop and a satisfied burp. Belle set him down in the bassinet Diane had recently outgrown, and Rumple passed Gabi to her so she could repeat the process all over. He then put their son and a cloth over his shoulder and gently patted Gideon’s back to soothe him to sleep.

As the sun disappeared below the horizon, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Both of them started. Rumple gave her a look and stood by the door where an intruder wouldn’t see him, fidgeting in readiness to pounce until Robin showed his face and Belle relaxed with a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me,” Robin assured them, crossing the room to check on Diane, miraculously still asleep in her cot. He had four of Belle’s books tucked under his arm, a bag of things they had asked him to fetch from the house, and a duffel bag slung over his back. Roland padded into the room behind him; the five-year-old was rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Hey, Roland,” said Belle, giving Robin a look of confusion.

“Hey, Miss Belle,” Roland replied, sleepily climbing onto the couch and looking over the armrest to the baby in Belle’s arms. “Is that your bubby?”

“Yeah. This is Gabi, and that’s Gideon,” she told him, pointing to her son asleep on his father’s shoulder.

Roland yawned so wide that it split his face in half. “She’s wrinkly,” he said before curling up on the sofa.

Robin snickered at his son, which made Belle frown. He’d dropped her and Rumple’s belongings on the floor and was in the process of shoving his own belongings into the duffel.

“What are you doing?” Rumple asked, careful to keep his voice down in case it disturbed Gideon.

“I’m leaving too,” Robin told them while he bundled up Diane and Roland’s clothes. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t – I can’t stand the thought of raising my kids this way. Not in this town.”

“Where will you go?”

“Well, if it’s alright with you, I’ve still got the key to Baelfire’s old flat,” he said. “And I’ve done the floating-worker trick before. I’ll get by.”

 _How did things get so bad that it’s come to this?_ Belle asked herself as she rocked her daughter in the armchair. Her throat clenched and she felt tears well in her eyes as Gabi stretched her little arm over her head, knocking her whole fist against Belle’s collarbone. Even after seeing it with her own eyes, she still couldn’t believe that the Charmings, Blue and Hook had really stooped so low as to try and hurt her children. How heartless must somebody be just to _think_ of harming something so helpless?

Robin was right. She couldn’t raise them like this, hiding in the shadows and terrified that somebody might take them from her at any moment. Once, she had told Rumple that a hero didn’t run from their problems. Now, she would happily brand herself a coward if it meant that her son and daughter would grow up in safety.

* * *

 

So, as the tower clock clicked to three o’clock in the morning, Belle and Robin slipped down the stairs to meet Rumple and the black Caddy. Only the Merry Men knew they were going – the rest would find out in the morning, along with the short letters left on the check-out desk. One for Regina (from Robin), one for Henry (from Rumple) and two from Belle, addressed to the Lucas’s and her father.

Rumple pulled the car up as close to the front door as he could and hurried to meet them. He took Gabi from Belle and set about securing their newborn in a car seat he had ‘bought’ from the shop (in a sense that he had taken it from the closed shop, and left a notice and the money in the owner’s letter box). Robin did the same on the other side with Diane and settled a sleeping Roland on the front seat. Belle wanted to keep Gideon closer – now that he had eaten and gone down without any problems, she was satisfied that Robin’s initial assessment was correct and his small size wasn’t a sign of a serious health issue. Still, she didn’t want to be too far from him until that could be confirmed by a professional.

While her husband got their daughter settled, she adjusted her hold on their son and bent down to pick up a book that Robin had dropped. It was Belle’s old copy of _Her Handsome Hero,_ which she had been reading to the twins while Rumple got the car. Her page was bookmarked with a Polaroid photo Robin had taken (apparently Rumple had a collection of old cameras too, in amongst the piles of junk he had in the shop) of them holding the twins. She suspected that, along with their ultrasound pictures, it would be the start of an extended collection of photographs; all Rumple had left of Bae’s childhood were a few items and some memories, after all. She couldn't blame him for wanting to preserve as much of the twins' lives as possible.

As she stood up again, Gideon woke and started to fuss.

“It’s alright, Gid,” she whispered, gently bouncing him in her arms, but he didn’t settle. “It’s alright. We’ll be gone soon and then –”

She stopped suddenly, and her blood went cold.

The Blue Fairy was standing on the other side of the street, watching them.

“Rumple.”

Her husband looked up, noticed the problem, and instantly turned murderous. Robin grabbed his bow.

“Stay right there!” he warned, an arrow pointed at Blue within two seconds.

“Please,” said the fairy, holding up both hands. “Please, you have to give me the child.”

Belle instinctively moved to put herself between Blue and Gideon.

“Get away from us,” Rumple growled.

“Please, you don’t understand. She’s coming –”

The streetlights flickered, making all of them jump in fright. Blue had gone pale and crossed the street towards them in spite of Robin’s arrow, still pointed at her.

“Please –”

She got no further, as Robin fired, the arrowhead burying itself deep underneath Blue’s collar. While the fairy shouted in pain, Belle looked at her husband, who hadn’t done anything. However, he was staring at the sky, and his eyes had gone wide with fright.

“Get the kids back inside,” he said in a low voice. “Now! Both of you, go!”

“Too late, Dark One.”

An instant later, black magic crackled through the air and hit Rumple squarely in the chest, sending him flying into a lamppost. He hit it headfirst. Robin pulled another arrow and was given the same treatment, landing on his behind in the middle of the street. All of that happened in the time it took for Belle to turn around, her back to the car and their assailant right in front of her.

It was a woman, taller than Belle and giving the same sickening, motherly smile that so often adorned Blue’s face. She was dressed in a glittering black gown embellished with vulture feathers and _radiated_ dark magic. And deadly brown eyes were staring at Gideon with a hunger so evil Belle didn’t even know how to describe it.

“Oh, yes,” said the woman, marching forwards. Belle tried to run, but her back hit the Caddy and she was trapped. “Yes. He’ll do perfectly.”

“No. _No!_ ”

But there was no place to go. The woman froze Belle in place. Struggle as she did, Belle could do nothing as the woman took Gideon out of her arms.

“Thank you, Belle,” she said, grinning evilly with bright white teeth. There was a cry from the car, and the woman’s eyes snapped to the baby seats. “More? Well, this is my lucky day.”

All Belle could focus on was her son trapped in the black-clad woman’s arms, screaming and kicking against her hold.

“No. No, not my son. Please! Gideon! _Gideon!_ ”

Black magic engulfed the car, and suddenly all four children were in the dark lady’s grasp; Diane and Gabi were in a twin basket, and the woman held Roland by the arm.

“I’ll be in touch,” said the woman, flashing Belle a wink while Roland struggled to free himself.

“ _Papa!_ ”

“ _Roland!_ ”

The woman grinned again. There was a rush of movement as Robin charged, but a black cloud erupted from the ground and engulfed her. Robin crashed straight through it and landed on the pavement with a painful thump.

“ _GIDEON! GABI!_ ”

But it was no use. The woman was gone, and she had taken all four of the children with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part VII - Rumple, Belle and Robin start the search for their missing children, and Emma gets a fright when someone breaks into her car


	7. Part VII

Robin wasn’t sure how long he was lying on the cold pavement in front of the library, listening to Belle’s muffled sobs and bleeding from scrapes on his hands, knees and chin. He was cold, and shivering, and slowly picked himself off the ground.

They were gone. His children were gone; stolen right under his watch.

_Roland. Di._

He got up, brushed gravel off his knees in a daze while the streetlights continued to flicker.

_They’re gone. My boy’s gone. Diane’s gone._

The brightest of the stars twinkled down at him, taunting him with each glimmer of their heavenly mass.

_I’m sorry, Marian._

Somewhere in between registering what had happened, and screaming every curse he could think of at whatever deity might be looking down on him at that moment, he remembered that he wasn’t alone. Belle had fallen beside the Caddy, head in her hands – not crying, but pale and gently rocking herself, obviously in shock – and Rumplestiltskin was still lying next to the lamppost. He was breathing, Robin noted gratefully, but bleeding profusely from a wound on his head. Robin wiped his nose and forced himself to think rationally.

He had two options. One, break down and cry, scream, curse, whatever – but that wasn’t going to get Roland and Diane back. The second; get Belle on her feet, help her get Rumplestiltskin inside, fix him up, and set him to work on bringing all four of their children home.

“Come on,” he said to Belle, gently patting her shoulder to get her attention. “Help me get him upstairs.”

* * *

 

At least Rumplestiltskin wasn’t a particularly heavy man. Between the two of them, Robin and Belle were able to haul him inside the library and set him down on a couch in the reading area. His head wound had stopped bleeding by itself, which Robin supposed was a good sign, but when Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes, they were glazed and unfocused. Not so good. Robin could only hope the concussion hadn’t done too much damage.

He left Belle to tend to her husband and went upstairs to make a pot of tea because he couldn’t think of anything better to do. There wasn’t anything else _to_ do until Rumplestiltskin was on his feet. That man was the only chance Robin had to see his son and daughter again. He had to believe that, or he really would fall apart.

Dark Ones did recover quickly, though, as Robin discovered when he came back downstairs.

“Ah, bluddy hell,” Rumplestiltskin groaned, his thick accent muddling the words, and grasped his head with the hand Belle wasn’t holding. Robin stayed back and let them have a moment. It took another few minutes before the man was in any condition to take stock of his surroundings; when he did, he blinked at Belle a few times and asked, “What happened?”

“She took them,” Belle answered in a small voice, grasping his hand as if afraid to let go. “She took Gabi and Gid.”

“Who was she?” Robin asked even as Rumplestiltskin’s face fell. If they were going to get the kids back, they needed to move quickly.

“Blue?”

“No, she took off the moment the other woman arrived,” Robin answered, which just earned him a blank look. “Tall, dark hair, dressed in a long black gossamer gown?”

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes widened. “The Black Fairy? She was here?”

“You don’t remember?” Belle asked in sudden concern.

“No.”

“Well, I don’t know what the Black Fairy looks like, but if it was her, it’s an appropriate moniker,” said Robin. “Do you know her?”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “Only by reputation.” He groaned again, pushing himself off the cushions to swing his legs off the couch. He swayed as he did; Belle caught him before he hit the floor. “I’m fine; I’m fine –”

“No, you’re not,” Belle insisted. “You’ve got a nasty concussion; you’re not in any condition to –”

“Look,” said Rumplestiltskin, grasping her shoulder for support, “if the Black Fairy did take them, we don’t have time for this –”

“Will she hurt them?” Robin asked.

“What?”

“Will she hurt them?”

A moment passed in which Rumplestiltskin stared at the floor before shaking his head again. “No. No, she won’t hurt them.”

“Then it can wait a few hours,” said Robin. “Belle’s right; you’re not in any condition to do this, and you’re the only one who can get them back. You need to rest.”

Rumplestiltskin seemed about to protest, but he went pale and looked as if he would throw up until Belle gently laid him down on the sofa. Robin poured them all a cup of tea and found a first-aid kit in the office. He didn’t know if it would do any good, but the sooner they got Rumplestiltskin in working order, the sooner they could get all of their children back.

 

**_Meanwhile in the Dark Realm_ **

“Eilwen!”

The voice of the Black Fairy echoed throughout the nursery chamber, upsetting the small boy with a broken arm Eilwen had been set to care for. Eilwen shushed him straight away and stood properly for the arrival of the dark mistress – it wouldn’t do to look shoddy in front of the Queen of Dark Magic, after all.

She strode inside, and Eilwen hurriedly looked at the floor. It was the first lesson she had learnt in this place, sixteen years ago, or thereabouts; respect was to be shown at all times to the lady of the realm, and one never forgot their rightful place as a servant of the Black Fairy.

“I’ve brought someone new,” she announced, pulling with her a struggling boy of five or six. Her grip was like iron on his arm. He fought valiantly to free himself – they all did, in the beginning – but she roughly shoved him into a cell and shut the door, where he continued to scream and rattled the bars.

“Another child for the mines?” Eilwen asked, ignoring the boy’s cries.

“That one is,” answered her mistress, shooting the boy a disdainful look. She conjured a basket by magic and dumped it on the table. “And these two.”

“What about that one?” Eilwen pointed to the small child sleeping in the Black Fairy’s arms. It may have been her imagination, but she swore that her mistress looked down at the baby with fondness.

“No,” she said, rocking the infant gently. “No, this one is … _different._ He is special.”

Eilwen nodded as the Black Fairy handed her the child. They didn’t usually come this young – he could be no older than a day. A newborn.

“I will care for him as if he were my own,” said Eilwen.

“Care for him as if he were mine,” the Black Fairy replied, giving Eilwen a sharp look.

“Yes, my Lady.”

After the Black Fairy had left, Eilwen found a straw-filled cradle and set the still-sleeping baby down a reasonable distance from the fire to keep him warm. The boy in the cell was still crying – no doubt her mistress would send Julian later to collect him – and the other two babies had started to stir. Eilwen had found another basket to put the smaller of the girls in when something caught her interest.

“Hello,” she exclaimed, picking up the book that had somehow become caught in the blankets while bouncing the small girl on her arm. _Her Handsome Hero_ was the title, and a piece of paper stuck out of the pages. Curious, Eilwen pulled it loose. It was a picture, a very shiny picture, of what looked like two newborn babies being cradled by – well, Eilwen supposed that they were the parents. There was a caption on the back, too.

“ _Gabrielle and Gideon,_ ” she read carefully, her limited abilities slowing down the process while she tried to decipher the elegant script. “ _Born one November, two-zero-one-four. Mama and Papa love you._ ”

“Gabrielle,” Eilwen said, looking down at the newborn she was holding. “Is that you? And Gideon …?”

It couldn’t be the other girl – she was at least four months older than little Gabrielle – so Gideon must be the name of the baby boy. _Are they twins?_ Eilwen wondered. They must be – the picture said that they were born on the same day. Why did the Black Fairy want them separated?

_Mama and Papa love you._

“Then why did she take you?” Eilwen murmured, careful to keep her voice low. The Black Fairy always insisted that the children she brought were unwanted by their parents, abandoned and left for dead if not worse, and that they should be _grateful_ to be taken in and cared for. Why would their parents leave them a message saying that they loved them if they had abandoned them?

Eilwen shook the dangerous thought out of her head. It wouldn’t do to start asking questions. Her mistress knew best, and she shouldn’t forget it.

Gabrielle started fussing in Eilwen’s arms. So had Gideon, stretching out his tiny limbs as far as the blankets would let him. Eilwen bit her lip. The Black Fairy hadn’t said _exactly_ that she wanted them separated – just that Gideon was to be treated well – and if they _were_ twins, shouldn’t they be together?

So Eilwen laid them side-by-side in the crib, and they were quiet almost instantly.

“There,” she murmured, gently patting Gabrielle’s head. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

As both babies drifted back to sleep, Eilwen picked up the book again. She had a small collection of stories that the Black Fairy let her read to the youngest children, and this one looked good. She contemplated the picture, and decided to slot it between the last page and the back cover for safekeeping. The twins might want it one day, if only to remember why they should be so thankful for the Black Fairy’s generosity.

 

**_Two days later_ **

It was the first thing on Monday morning, and Emma was already pissed off. She just didn’t get what Henry’s problem was, and Hook was no help. In the length of time it took her to get up and have a shower, the two of them had already had a fight that involved Henry throwing Hook’s grapefruits into the bin and storming out in a huff. When she asked what had happened, her son had snapped that he was going to walk himself to school and slammed the door. Hook just said something about how he was being a teenager, which didn’t really answer the question, and went back to boiling his fish. The smell made Emma’s stomach roll, so she had skipped breakfast with the excuse that she needed to get to the station early. She could stop to pick something up from Granny’s on the way.

She _knew_ Henry had his issues with Hook, Emma thought as she unlocked and got into her car. The kid hadn’t had the easiest life, especially not the last few years. And he missed his dad. She got it, she really did, but she still wished Henry would pull himself together and see that this was how things were now.

Maybe she should ask Archie to talk to him …?

“Excuse me, are you Emma Swan?” asked a voice from the backseat that made Emma yell and swerve the car dangerously as she pulled into the next street. Thankfully, there was no other traffic.

“Yeah,” Emma replied, glancing over her shoulder at the intruder. Whoever they were, they had a hood pulled over their face, so she couldn’t see them properly. “Who the hell are you?”

“My name’s Gabi,” said the intruder in what sounded like a British accent, pushing her hood back to reveal a head of dark chestnut hair and disturbingly familiar brown eyes. “Sorry if I frightened you, but I really need to talk to you.”

Emma glanced back again, frowning as she did. She thought Gabi looked familiar – especially the eyes, there was something about her eyes – but couldn’t place her at all, so she groaned derisively, pulled the car off to the side of the road and got out. Gabi did the same.

 “What the hell were you doing on my backseat?” Emma shouted, slamming the door a bit harder than necessary.

“I told you; I need to talk to you,” said Gabi, fidgeting as she slipped her hands into her jeans pockets. Definitely an oddball, Emma thought, taking in Gabi’s strange appearance. She was dressed like a person who only had the vaguest idea of how to clothe themselves; she wore a t-shirt and a dark navy button-up under her hoodie, and she’d rolled up the hems of a pair of jeans that were way too long for her. A frayed piece of ribbon held her hair back in a ponytail, and the laces of her scuffed shoes were untied. Was she homeless?

She really, _really_ looked familiar.

“Talk to me?” Emma huffed. “You couldn’t think of any other way to do that?”

“Well, they told me to try the sheriff’s station, but you don’t seem to be there anymore.”

“So you broke into my car?!”

Gabi blinked a couple of times, and then looked from Emma to the car with the expression of someone who had just realised they’d made a bad decision. “Yeah. On second thoughts, that may not have been such a good idea.”

“Who are you?” Emma demanded in a low voice, a tremor running up her arm again. _Are you the hooded figure from the Oracle’s vision?_

She was a bit short, but stranger things had happened in Storybrooke.

“I told you my name,” Gabi replied, taking a step backwards.

“What are you really doing in Storybrooke?”

Gabi swallowed, backpedalling fast as Emma advanced on her. “I – I should go –”

_Like hell._

Emma threw a wave of magic that would knock out anyone within five yards. The flash of white light temporarily blinded her as she raced forwards, and then fell backwards onto the street, hit by a deflective shield. She was dazed for a second before the light cleared and she could see properly. Gabi had run for it. Emma chased her around the corner, but she was long gone.

“Damn it.”

* * *

 

Belle had no idea what to do with herself.

Rumplestiltskin was in the front room of the shop, working frantically on a means to locate the twins while Robin paced, clicking his fingers and checking every five seconds to see if there had been any progress. Rumple would mutter something every once in a while, usually a curse. And Belle was trying to keep herself together.

It had taken Rumple almost three centuries to cross realms and find Bae. What if it took them that long to find Gabi and Gideon? What would happen to them in the meantime? Would they even remember their mama and papa?

Belle gently rocked herself on the cot, holding the memory of her babies’ faces in her mind. It was all she had, as the one photograph they’d had was gone along with Belle’s book. They were all gone.

She would not cry. That would not help anyone.

Still, it would have helped if she could actually _do_ something, instead of just sitting on the cot like a lump, doing absolutely _nothing_ that might bring her children home.

After a while, Robin kicked a cabinet in frustration. “Come on, you’ve gotta have something by now! A spell, a curse, a portal, a giant goose egg – anything!”

“This is going to take some time,” Rumple replied, leaning over that strange milky globe he had been studying all night.

“It’s been nearly two days!”

“Robin.” Belle fixed her old friend with a look, even though her insides were twisted with agony to match that on Robin’s face. But panicking wouldn’t get them anywhere. “It’s going to take time.”

“What if she hurts them? I – I know you said she wouldn’t but –”

“She won’t,” said Rumple. “This is what she does.”

“What is what she does?” asked Robin. When Rumple didn’t answer, Robin added, “Who is this Black Fairy? Why would she want our kids?”

Rumple let out a long sigh. He looked as if he were about ready to tear out his hair from worry. Belle got up and put a gentle hand on his arm. None of them had slept in over twenty-four hours, and they were all on edge.

“According to the stories, the Black Fairy was exiled some hundred or so years ago by her sister. Rheul Ghorm. Blue,” Rumple answered quietly. “Her name is Damhsa a’Deireadh. Queen of darkness. She resides in what remains of the fairies’ original realm, before they came to Enchanted Forest. It’s a nightmare world, warped by dark magic. Even time is subject to her whimsy there. She’s trapped, but able to break through the veil separating our world from hers for short periods of time – long enough to steal a child and carry them back to the mines that produce dark fairy dust.”

“And, what?” said Robin. “You think we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time when she broke through?”

“No,” Belle murmured.

Both of them looked at her with puzzled expressions. Belle bit back a sob as she tried not to remember how the Black Fairy had taken her son right out of her arms, how she had been frozen in place and unable to do anything to protect him. Then she took a deep breath and continued:

“It was a targeted attack. She was after Gideon. The others were just unlucky, but she wanted him.”

“Why?” Robin asked.

“Because he’s my son,” Rumple whispered, looking down at the counter in shame. “She wanted the Dark One’s boy.”

“Not quite,” said a fourth voice that made Belle jump. The door jingled as it shut behind the person who had just come in, and Belle stared in shock.

“ _Gideon?_ ”

Her son smiled sweetly. “Hi, Mum.”

A hundred or so questions sat on the tip of her tongue as Belle gasped, taking in the sudden arrival of her grown son, who looked exactly as he had whenever he’d appeared in her dreams. But she couldn’t speak, or do anything except stare while her feet carried her forwards of their own accord until she had wrapped her arms around him, standing on her toes as he crouched – Lord, he was tall – and hugged him as tight as she could. The whole damn world could wait just one second. Her son was here. He was alive.

And he remembered her. Belle broke the hug to look at Gideon properly, wiping away tears as they fell onto her cheeks. He was crying too, she noticed, though he was trying to disguise it. Belle felt a hand on her back, and realised that Rumple was behind her.

“Papa,” Gideon said breathlessly, sweeping his father up in a similar rib-crushing embrace.

“How – how is this even possible? How are you here?” Rumple asked as he let his son go. “How are you grown?”

“I’ve lived a full twenty-eight years in another realm,” Gideon replied. “You were right. The Black Fairy, she took us back to her world, where time moves differently. Where she raised me.”

“Did she hurt you?” asked Rumple, echoing the fear Belle couldn’t bring herself to voice.

It was the slightest of movement, Gideon’s gaze dropping for barely a fraction of a second, but it was enough. The pain. Belle’s heart pounded in her chest. What had the Black Fairy done to him?

“Not … badly,” he said in a level tone, giving nothing away. Which told Belle far more than she wanted to know. “But there’s no time for that. She’s on her way to Storybrooke.”

“The Black Fairy?” said Belle. Gideon nodded.

“She’s figured out a way to break the restraints her sister placed around her realm,” he explained. “If that happens, she will be free to extend her reign of terror to all the lands, not just this one. We have to stop her before that happens.”

“How?” asked Rumple.

“By killing her with the Saviour’s powers,” said Gideon.

Belle gasped again, glancing sideways at her husband. Things started to fall into place – Emma’s visions, her tremors, and Gideon’s black robe (now that she noticed it) did look like the one Emma had described. Surely he couldn’t mean –?

“Only the greatest powers of light can defeat the darkness for good,” her son continued. “I’ve seen it happen, Papa. In a vision. The Black Fairy _can_ be destroyed, and her world freed from her tyranny. We can do it. If you’ll help me.”

“No,” said Rumple, reaching out for their son. Belle did the same, but Gideon stepped back, looking crestfallen. “No. There _has_ to be another way.”

“Not one that can defeat her for good,” Gideon replied. “Papa, she _has_ to be stopped!”

“Yes, but you don’t have to damn yourself in the process!” Belle insisted, pleading with him to listen. If he killed Emma, if he succumbed to darkness, on top of whatever the Black Fairy had made him do, would there be any coming back?

“Please, son,” Rumple begged as Gideon took another step back, looking down at his feet. “Please. Don’t do this. We can find another way to destroy her.”

“There isn’t one,” Gideon answered in a small voice. He looked up, brown eyes filled with desperation that made Belle want to wrap him in a blanket and chase away his nightmares with a stick. “I’m sorry, Papa. I have to do this.”

Rumple reached for him again. “No –”

But Gideon flicked his hand up, the same motion Belle had seen Rumple do a thousand times. Dark golden smoke engulfed him, the smell of oranges filled the room, and her son was gone again.

“I’ll find him,” said Rumple, giving Belle’s shoulder a squeeze before he raced out of the door after their boy. With her heart pounding in her throat, Belle thought of following. She’d gotten as far as grasping the doorknob when someone put their hand on her arm and she jumped. It was just Robin. Belle had completely forgotten that he was still there.

“I think it might be best if you let him do it alone,” said Robin, looking at the door. “Take it from me: sometimes a boy just needs to talk to his father.”

Even though she ached to go after her husband and son, Belle appreciated the wisdom of Robin’s words. Both he and Rumple had far more experience in this area than she did, after all. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Besides, I had another idea.”

As he said it, a thought hit Belle, and her gut wrenched. She’d been so caught up with the relief of knowing that Gideon was safe – twenty-eight years older than she’d hoped he would be, but safe nonetheless – that she hadn’t even thought of asking about Gabrielle.

If Gideon was in Storybrooke –

It seemed that Robin had the same idea.

“If Gideon is here,” Belle said slowly as Robin nodded, “then maybe Gabi and Diane are too.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” said Robin.

Belle couldn’t open the door fast enough.

* * *

 

It had been two days, and Granny was still trying to clean up the mess left behind from the battle.

“Self-righteous little insects,” she spat under her breath as she swept up pieces of glass and plasterboard that had scattered all over the corridor. There was a massive hole in the wall that Marco was in the process of fixing, and Leroy was scrubbing soot off the floor. It would probably have to be repainted, and that was if they could get away without replacing the tiles altogether.

Damn them, Granny thought with a groan. The least they could’ve done was warn her before they turned her diner into a battleground.

Even as she thought it, the diner door opened with a jingle and the two faces she wanted to see least in the world (well, almost – Blue wasn’t with them) walked in.

“Morning, Granny,” Hook greeted jovially, as if he had not taken part in a kidnapping attempt two days ago that left half of her livelihood in tatters. “Two coffees and a cocoa, please.”

“Hook,” David grumbled, nudging the pirate’s elbow and gesturing to the mess. Hook, of course, was oblivious to the problem.

“What? I said _please._ ”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Granny growled, chucking the broom aside and throwing the pirate a deadly look as she walked around the counter. What the hell did Emma even see in this guy?

“You wanna pick up a broom, help fix the mess you made?” Leroy suggested, thrusting Granny’s abandoned implement at David. The man looked genuinely surprised, at which Granny failed not to roll her eyes.

“Look, we said we were sorry,” David said for the third time. “We had to take the chance when we could. Obviously, it didn’t work. I have to get to the station now, but I can come around after work.”

“Don’t bother,” Leroy snapped, snatching the broom back. “You’ve made enough of a mess already.”

“What the bloody hell has gotten into everyone?” Hook asked. “If it’s not you lot snapping about the diner, it’s Hopper and Whale barging into the station to complain that we’re not doing enough to help the Camelot refugees. We’ve got stuff to do, you know.”

“Oh, you’ve done plenty,” said Happy, rising from his booth with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He chucked it at David before settling on a stool to sip his coffee. David, staring at the dwarf as if he had grown an extra head, unfolded the paper and then read the headline.

“‘ _Family Feud Destroys Local Diner: Have the Charmings Gone ‘Lone Ranger’ on Storybrooke?_ ’ Hey, that’s not fair!” he shouted, slapping the paper down on the counter. “We’re trying to protect this town! Getting Rumplestiltskin locked back up is what’s best for everyone! You all know what he tried to do!”

“Rumplestiltskin never tried to blow up my diner,” Granny muttered under her breath. In all honesty, she didn’t really care what they did to Rumplestiltskin. He could take care of himself, and see if she mourned them when he finally gave them the fight they were asking for. It was who hurt Belle when she got caught in the crossfire that worried Granny. That girl had been through enough; she deserved a break.

“Yeah, and he didn’t try to drag half the town to hell just cos he had a fight with his girlfriend,” Leroy grunted, just loud enough for Hook to hear him.

The pirate scowled. “What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means your coffee’s done,” said Granny, thrusting the tray at him. One of the drinks split, hot liquid searing Hook’s good hand and he shouted in pain. “See you around.”

She swore out loud as the door shut behind them, each one wearing a puzzled expression. Leroy uttered a curse, and Marco muttered something in Calabrian. Granny wondered if it was possible to permanently ban people from the property, and made a note to ask Rumplestiltskin next chance she got. The whole town was pissed off at David, Snow and Emma’s recent behaviour – frankly, some thought they might as well not have a sheriff at all anymore – but _clearly_ , they hadn’t gotten the hint.

Granny hung her head and sighed. She didn’t know what had happened to them in the Underworld, but they had not been the same since.

* * *

 

 

A simple locator spell took Rumplestiltskin to the magic well in the woods; the place where he and Belle had been reunited in Storybrooke, the place they had said their vows. He had no idea if Gideon realised the significance of the place, or whether it was the magic that had drawn him here. The most surprising thing was how easy it had been to find his boy. He doubted it was an oversight, given how powerful Gideon had already proven to be. Maybe his son wouldn’t admit it, but Rumplestiltskin thought that he had wanted to be found.

He stood in the shadow of the trees, watching his son stare into the waters of the well, his cowl pulled up to cover his face. His face was blank, but Rumplestiltskin knew that look. Better than he wanted to.

He wouldn’t let Gideon kill Emma, but he swore he would help his son destroy the fairy who had hurt him if it was the last thing he did.

“You know, your mother and I were married in this very spot,” Rumplestiltskin announced himself gently in case Gideon spooked. His son didn’t look up, but he knew that he had heard. “This is … a special place.”

“If you’re here to talk me off my path, you can’t,” said Gideon, still staring into the water. “This is my fate.”

Rumplestiltskin strode around to the other side of the well so that he stood opposite his son. “Well, fate’s a tricky business. It still requires work, and planning.”

Gideon finally looked up, a scowl hardening on his face. “I see what this is. You don’t think I’m strong enough.”

He stood up straight and started to storm off, but Rumplestiltskin grabbed him by the arm.

“ _Don’t_ walk away from your father,” Rumplestiltskin growled as Gideon fought against his hold. “You’ve been alive twenty-eight years; I’ve been alive hundreds. There are things a man learns.”

Gideon wrenched his arm free, breathing hard. Rumplestiltskin felt magic crackle in the air.

“I don’t understand, Papa,” his son whispered through clenched teeth. “I thought you’d want to see the fall of the Black Fairy more than anyone.”

“Oh, I do,” said Rumplestiltskin honestly. “But I won’t let my son darken his heart to do it.” He reached out and placed his hands on Gideon’s arms, forcing his son to look at him. “Gideon, I know that there is still light in your heart. Don’t snuff it out. Not even for this. Because once you give in to the darkness, it’s almost impossible to resist its call. Believe me; I know.”

“Papa –”

“If you go through with this – if you succeed in murdering the Saviour –”

Gideon’s head snapped up. “Murder?” he said, looking genuinely shocked. “Papa, I never said I wanted to kill her.”

Now it was Rumplestiltskin’s turn to be surprised. “You don’t?”

“No,” Gideon said with a small shake of his head. “I came here to ask for her help. If she really is the Saviour destined to fight the final battle, then why wouldn’t she want to see the Black Fairy destroyed?”

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow. “Well, it may take some convincing,” he murmured, thinking of Emma’s conduct as of late. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Gideon blinked, surprised again.

“We should find your mother; she’ll want to know about this,” Rumplestiltskin continued, giving his son’s arm a squeeze. “But I promise that we will help you.”

“You will?”

“Of course I will. You’re my son.”

As realisation set in, Gideon smiled, looking overwhelmed by gratitude. “Thank you, Papa.”

Rumplestiltskin returned the smile. “Come on. Let’s find your mum.”

* * *

 

It was a long shot at best, but Belle knew they had to try. She couldn’t just stand by and allow her son to become a murderer because of the Black Fairy, but she also needed to know where her daughter was. A part of her insisted that if Gabi was in Storybrooke, then why hadn’t she found her parents like Gideon had? Wouldn’t she be working with her brother?

Belle needed to find out. The trouble was, with Rumple otherwise engaged trying to find their son, she could only think of one other person who might be able to find their daughter. Or Robin’s, if Diane and Roland were also in town.

The town hall was quiet for the time of day, so Belle and Robin ran into no-one on their way to Regina’s office. The door was open, so they let themselves in.

“Well, there’s nothing unusual that I can detect on the north side of town,” Regina was saying to somebody on the phone, her back to the door. “Look, calm down, we don’t even know who it is that we’re looking for –”

“His name’s Gideon.”

Regina jumped and spun around on the spot as Belle shut the door.

“David, I’m going to have to call you back,” said Regina, hanging up. “Belle?”

“He’s my son,” Belle told her quickly before she could lose her nerve, grateful for Robin’s steadying presence by her side. “Yesterday morning, the Black Fairy came and stole him from me, and took him to another land where she raised him for twenty-eight years. Now he’s back.”

“He’s here to kill Emma?” Regina asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

Belle nodded. She looked to Robin, who rubbed her back supportively, and took a shaky breath. “Look, I know you tried to warn me in Granny’s. I know you’re not happy with what the Blue Fairy tried to do. But Gideon is not lost to evil, I know it. Rumple’s out there now. We’re his parents; if we could just talk to him, we can help him.”

Regina paused, taking in the information. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“It wasn’t just Gideon that she took, Gina,” said Robin. “She also took Roland and Diane, and Gabrielle.”

“Gabrielle?”

“My daughter,” Belle explained. “They’re twins.”

“We think that if Gideon’s in Storybrooke, there’s a chance the others might be too,” Robin continued as Regina’s eyes went wide. “But we don’t know how to find them. Could you help us?”

Another pause. Regina and Robin stared at each other, and Belle fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable. But Regina nodded all the same, conjuring a map of the town which she laid out on her desk.

“I’ll need a drop of blood,” she said, fishing a letter opener out of her desk drawer.

“Without _them_ knowing,” Belle insisted, pointing to Regina’s phone. “You know what they’ll do to them.”

“If he hurts Emma –”

“I won’t let that happen. I promise,” she assured her. Regina looked wary, but another glance at Robin and she nodded again.

“Alright. Give me your hand.”

* * *

 

Since running into Gabi – or whoever she really was – Emma’s hand had not stopped shaking. Hook finally insisted, after she knocked her coffee off the desk and broken the cup, that they talk to the Blue Fairy, a sentiment echoed by her parents after Hook told them what had happened. So Emma followed Snow up the drive to the convent, her hand shoved into her jacket pocket to disguise the tremors.

“The tremors are worse?” Blue asked once the three of them were alone in her office, taking Emma’s hand and examining it as she had done regularly for the past four months. So much prodding and poking, and no definitive answers, of which Emma was starting to get really tired. She felt like a lab rat. “What happened?”

“There’s somebody in town,” said Emma. “A girl. She broke into my car this morning.”

“A girl?” Blue stepped back with a thoughtful frown. “Describe her.”

“Uh, maybe mid- to late-twenties, dark hair, about so high, brown eyes,” Emma rattled off quickly, trying to remember every detail that could be important. “She said her name was Gabi.”

“Any surname?” asked Snow.

“No.”

“That would be too simple,” said Blue, shaking her head. “But the girl is not the one you need to worry about right now. There is something worse coming.”

“ _Worse?_ ” Snow exclaimed. “What could be worse than this?”

“This.”

Blue waved a hand over the wall mirror behind her desk, which rippled like water until an image formed of the woods outside Storybrooke. Emma recognised the place instantly – the magical well, the one August had said possessed the power to bring lost things back. Rumplestiltskin was there, leaning casually against the stonework, and talking to a guy Emma didn’t recognise. But the guy wore a long, dark and hooded robe. Just like the one from her vision.

“It’s him,” she whispered, and Snow’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Who is he?” her mother demanded.

“That is the Dark One’s son,” said Blue. “Stolen from his parents by the Black Fairy the moment he was born, and raised as her loyal servant.”

“He’s here to kill me, isn’t he?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Blue replied. “Your tremors started the moment Belle French was woken from the sleeping curse and returned to Storybrooke. The moment the next Saviour arrived in our world.”

Emma and Snow looked at each other, perplexed. “But Emma’s the Saviour,” Snow insisted. “How could there be another one?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way, child,” said Blue in that motherly tone Emma hated. “The Saviour’s role is one that has been passed down for centuries, destined to fight the final battle against the forces of darkness. Rumplestiltskin simply appropriated it for his curse. They have always been a child of true love, a child born with magic tied into their very being, the most powerful light magician in existence. Unless, of course, it was turned to evil.”

She sighed and looked at the mirror. “If the boy succeeds in killing you, the Saviour’s powers will be turned to darkness. And we will not stand a chance against the Black Fairy when she comes for us all.”

“Then I’ll have to kill him first,” said Emma.

“You’ll need this.”

Blue walked around her desk to a cabinet which contained a multitude of strange objects – wands, glass vials, dried herbs and what might have been a cat skull – and pulled out a sword.

“I should have given this to you a long time ago.”

Emma took the blade and swung it experimentally. It had a shining ruby set in the pommel. Despite its length, it was surprisingly light and felt perfectly balanced in her hand.

“I made that for King Charles during the Fae Wars,” said Blue. “Use it well.”

* * *

 

“It would help if you'd tell me what you’re looking for,” Rumplestiltskin said as Gideon rummaged through yet another cabinet in the shop. He didn’t mind the mess, but standing there feeling useless was another story. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not sure what it is,” Gideon replied, chucking an empty box to the side and pulling out another one. “I’ll know it when I see it. I saw it in a vision; it’s something that’ll help convince the Saviour to work with us.”

“And why do we need Emma Swan to work with us?”

Given her recent attitude, and what the heroes had tried to do to his children, Rumplestiltskin doubted that simply asking for Emma’s help would work. She was too firm in her belief that Gideon was destined to kill her, after all. Even if they could convince her that was no longer the case, Rumplestiltskin refused to trust them anymore.

Not after what they had done to Belle.

“Because the Saviour is the only one with the power to destroy the Black Fairy for good,” said Gideon, growling from frustration. Whatever he was looking for, it didn’t seem to be in the shop.

“What if she won’t help?”

“Then I’ll _make_ her.”

“Gideon –”

His son rounded on him, using his height to appear formidable. Rumplestiltskin stared him down.

“I won’t turn away from my quest,” Gideon swore. “I gave my word that I would free the people trapped in her realm. If Emma Swan won’t help me to kill the Black Fairy, then she leaves me with no choice.”

He resumed his searching, this time through the cabinet where Rumplestiltskin kept his potion ingredients.

“People trapped in her realm?” Rumplestiltskin echoed, watching carefully for his son’s reaction. “You mean … like Gabrielle?”

Gideon froze, confirming Rumplestiltskin’s suspicions. He had wondered if his son knew he had a twin sister – Gideon hadn’t mentioned her at all in the time it took them to get from the woods to the shop – but obviously he did, and she wasn’t with him now.

“Gideon,” he asked quietly, almost afraid to know the answer, “what happened to your sister?”

His son still hadn’t moved. Rumplestiltskin frowned. Had Gideon heard him? He was about to repeat the question when his son said, “Door.”

“Huh?”

The door opened forcefully. Gideon stood, Rumplestiltskin moved in front of his son on gut instinct, and Charming barged in, sword raised and pointed at Gideon. He was followed closely by Hook and Snow, the latter with an arrow trained on Rumplestiltskin.

“Alright, Crocodile,” Hook demanded. “Hand him over, and we’ll let you live.”

“Get out of my shop now, and _I’ll_ let _you_ live,” Rumplestiltskin snarled in return.

“I won’t let you harm my daughter,” said Charming, foolishly stepping closer, completely ignorant of the magic crackling through the shop. “Hand him over.”

“No.”

Snow fired. The arrow stopped an inch from Rumplestiltskin’s chest, but he wasn’t the one who had stopped it. It hovered for a moment before dropping to the floor; then the door opened, there was a gust of magic, and the three intruders were blasted out onto the street. Rumplestiltskin noted with no small sense of satisfaction the sight of Hook landing painfully on his arse, but had no time to contemplate it further. Gideon raced past him, straight outside. Rumplestiltskin chased after him.

Charming was already on his feet. Gideon, now with a sword of his own – where had that come from? – easily disarmed the infamous prince in two moves, then sent him and his wife flying into the shop opposite Gold’s.

Hook struggled to his feet; Rumplestiltskin grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him up.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” he growled at the pirate.

Perhaps fortunately for Hook, he never answered the request, as Rumplestiltskin was hit by a wave of magic emanating from someone on the street. The smell of olives told him straight away who it was.

He swore out loud. It was an ambush, and this time the Charmings had gotten _Zelena_ to help.

“Sorry, dearie, but I’ve had a better offer,” said the Witch, raising her hands again.

“ _GET AWAY FROM HIM!_ ” Gideon roared from the other side of the street, blasting the Witch with a spell of his own. Zelena swept it aside, cackling as she did. Rumplestiltskin scrambled to his feet and ran for his son, only to be stopped halfway by a transparent wall of green and white smoke.

 _No! No!_ he shouted desperately inside his head. _Not her. Not my boy._

_Not again._

“Gideon!” he heard Belle cry from some distance away, and turned his head to see her running down the street to the battle with Robin and Regina in tow. Rumplestiltskin shoved it aside for now; he had to break through the shield. He had to get to his son.

* * *

 

Regina’s locator spell had given a positive reading – two signals had appeared on her map. One was in the woods, standing still, and near a third source of magic – Rumple – so Belle had concluded that one had to be Gideon. The second was jumping all over Storybrooke. Doing what, Belle had no idea, but Gabi was obviously up to something.

Near evening, they had finally pinned down her daughter’s signal to Main Street, and Regina dropped them in front of the library. Belle called Gabi’s name once and got no response, and was about to call again when something happened. A very _big_ something happened.

Belle could hardly believe what she was seeing. A dome of pure magic – battling strands of green, white and gold – had arisen in the middle of Main Street, right in front of Rumple’s shop. Her husband was at the base, a hand outstretched as he tried to break through the barrier. Hook was unconscious a few feet away. Snow and David were on the other side of the dome, tangled up in a pile of ropes that seemed to be actively fighting their efforts to get free. And in the middle of it was her son, caught in between the combined powers of Emma and Zelena.

So the heroes had gone to the Witch, had they? Belle spat a curse at the Charmings, not even caring when Regina threw her a look of shock. Zelena had killed Bae – and now they wanted her to kill Gideon too.

She had been wrong. They _could_ sink even lower.

“Gideon!”

He was trying to fight two battles at once – a swordfight with Emma, and a magical fight with Zelena. He was still on his feet, but barely. He couldn’t keep it up much longer.

“Emma!” Belle cried, hoping to get somebody’s attention. It worked – Emma looked up for a split second, long enough for Gideon to throw her several yards down the street. Her sword broke into pieces beside her. The victory was short-lived, as Zelena hit him with something in return, and Gideon’s legs gave out beneath him.

Belle slammed her palms against the dome wall. “No!”

A moment later, a bolt of black magic hit Zelena square in the chest, and the Witch crumbled. Rumple had cracked the shield, just enough to squeeze a hand through. As the Witch collapsed, so did the dome, and Belle raced for her son. Rumple was close behind.  On the other side, Snow and David had gotten free of the ropes and were coming at them. Five yards away from her son, Belle hit another wall – this one invisible, and it froze her, Rumple, the Charmings, Robin and Regina all in place. Emma was back up, panting from exhaustion, but she had just enough left in her to plant her knee on Gideon’s chest and hold the broken sword hilt to his throat.

“ _NO!_ ”

Emma looked up at Rumple’s cry.

“Please,” he begged of her, a sentiment Belle would have echoed if the spell had let her talk. “He’s my son.”

Something flashed across Emma’s face. Belle had no time to recognise it, as there was a sudden roar and Main Street was flooded with light from the headlamps of at least a dozen cars racing down the road. Gideon kneed Emma in the stomach, threw her off him, and disappeared in a cloud of orange-gold smoke right before Doc’s beloved Miata drove over the place where he’d been moments ago. Later, Belle would register the fact that the car had no driver, but in the moment, all she felt was relief at the sight of her son escaping certain death and her husband’s arms pulling her to safety from the rest of the vehicular charge.

 _He got away,_ Belle thought to herself, almost laughing despite the circumstances. _He got away._

* * *

 

At least Gideon escaped, Robin thought as he threw himself against the nearest wall to avoid the sudden onslaught of cars. He had no idea what had happened, how the battle had begun or why, but he was willing to bet that it hadn’t been Rumplestiltskin or his son who started it. _And_ Zelena had been involved. Robin could guess who had gotten her into the fight.

Sadly, none of the vehicles hit the Witch’s motionless body – or Hook’s, for that matter – before they screeched to a halt at the end of the road. Emma marched up to the front of the line, where a small figure jumped out of the caboose of a dirty brown pickup truck, followed by David and Rumplestiltskin. Robin would have gone after them too, if Belle hadn’t grabbed Snow by the lapels and slammed her into the shop door with a cringe-worthy crash.

“It’s not enough that you had to go behind my back to imprison my husband – you had to hire the Wicked Witch to KILL MY SON?!” Belle screamed with all the desperation of a mother who had almost been forced to watch her child die right in front of her. Snow was too shocked to fight back. Robin could barely register it himself.

“Belle –”

Snow got no further, a solid right hook from Belle like a thunderclap against her cheek, and she fell to the ground, clutching her face. It was already bright red.

“ _I trusted you!_ ” Belle cried, tears now openly streaming down her cheeks. “I trusted you.”

And with that, she turned on her heels and stormed off. She was headed for the library. Robin made to follow her, but a hand grabbed his elbow and held him back. It was Regina.

“Robin –”

“Don’t,” he snapped, one too many pieces coming together in his mind. Somebody had told the Charmings about Gideon, and he highly doubted that it was Rumplestiltskin. “Just don’t.”

She either let go or he yanked his arm free. Robin didn’t really care. He just knew that he needed to be as far away from this place, from these people, as possible. So he followed Belle to the library, praying all the while that the others would see sense and leave well enough alone.

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin had watched his wife attack Snow White, too shocked by both the battle and Belle’s actions to realise what was going on until Snow was on the ground, and Belle was halfway to the library. Robin followed her after snapping at Regina, leaving her pale and confused. Rumplestiltskin intended to follow too, if another sharp exchange hadn’t caught his attention.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Emma bellowed at the small woman who jumped down from Charming’s truck after the vehicles had come to a stop. “You let him get away!”

“What’d you expect, that I’d just sit and watch you slit my brother’s throat? Not bloody likely!” the woman replied just as sharply.

Rumplestiltskin froze halfway through taking a step in his wife’s direction when he heard what the new arrival said. He pivoted on his heels, then stared at the person glaring up at Emma like a little mouse facing down a predator twice their size.

“Brother?” he said just loud enough for her to hear.

She turned to him, and he was met with a pair of brown eyes identical to his own shining out of a face that was the same shape as her mother’s. There was no doubt in his mind as to who she was, even without a test.

“Gabi?”

“Hi, Papa,” his daughter replied with a small, sweet smile that reminded him painfully of her older brother. She then threw Emma a cautious glance, and stepped out of the sheriff’s reach, though she hadn’t moved. “We need to talk.”

Gabrielle turned to walk down Third Avenue, leaving Rumplestiltskin, Emma and Charming all in various stages of shock. Eventually, Rumplestiltskin got his feet working and made to follow her, only for Charming to block his way.

“There are _two_ of them?” the shepherd prince demanded, grabbing Rumplestiltskin by the jacket.

“Yes,” said Rumplestiltskin, still watching his daughter. He shoved Charming away with no gentleness intended. “Yes, there are. Now get out of my way.”

“Hey, wait just a minute –”

“Mr Nolan, we have known each other for quite some time,” Rumplestiltskin snapped, batting the man’s hand away when he tried to grab him again. “So take it to heart when I say, father-to-father, that if you or your family lay one hand on either of my children, I’m killing all of you.”

And he meant it, too. He might have even finished it right then and there, if not for the fact that it would delay him from seeing his daughter. And gods, did he want to talk to his little girl. So Charming and Emma got to live to see another day, and Rumplestiltskin ran after Gabrielle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part VIII: Rumple and Gabi talk, and she tells the story of how they grew up under the Black Fairy


	8. Part VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: non-graphical abuse, allusions to abuse and minor character deaths. It is Gideon and Gabi’s past with the Black Fairy, so read at your discretion.

Sobs were echoing out of the library apartment, so Robin went upstairs. He found Belle seated on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up to her chest and cuddling the teddy bear she’d meant to give to the twins.

“Hey,” he murmured gently. “Can I come in?”

She sniffled and didn’t look up. “Sure.”

Streetlight spilt through the window, illuminating the tears falling down her cheeks. Robin sat on the mattress next to her, keeping a bit of space in case she needed it.

“You okay?”

“No,” she replied, picking a bit of lint off the bear’s ear and inhaling sharply. “I just – I just don’t know who to trust anymore.”

He sighed and looked out the window, to the street below where a battle had raged only moments ago. “Neither do I.”

She sniffled once more, then reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He put an arm around her. When she didn’t object, he gently pulled her to him so that her head was on his shoulder, and then let out a long sigh. He didn’t know what to feel: disappointed that people he had once admired so much had sunk so low, angry that Regina would be so blind as to trust Zelena, furious that she couldn’t see how the Witch had not changed at all, desperate to know what had happened to his kids and to get them back. So messed up, and it didn’t equate to half of what Belle had gone through.

The war had been declared now, well and truly, and Robin knew which side he would stand on when the time came.

* * *

 

“Damn you, Charming,” Rumplestiltskin growled to himself. The shepherd prince had delayed him long enough that he had lost sight of Gabi, and he had no idea where she would have gone.

Gideon had gone to the well; was it possible Gabi knew about that place too?

Rumplestiltskin stopped under a streetlamp and mentally kicked himself. There was an easier way to do this – all he had to do was think of his daughter and their shared magic would take him right to her.

The crimson cloud dropped him in the living room of the manor. Rumplestiltskin looked around, seeing no-one and getting confused until he noticed the small figure huddled in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance about on the burning timbers.

Gods, she was beautiful.

She had his eyes, a little to Rumplestiltskin’s disappointment, but her face was all Belle’s. Same nose, same chin. Although it looked like her ears had come from him. Chestnut hair – a slightly darker shade than her mother’s – fell down around her shoulders and she twisted in her hands the ribbon she’d used to tie it back.

“I like watching the fire,” said Gabi without looking up. “It helps me think.”

“Gabi,” Rumplestiltskin murmured, crouching on the hearthrug next to his daughter. She didn’t object, so he sat down, and nervously reached out to touch her hair.

She was _real._ His little girl.

Why had she walked off? Was she angry? Rumplestiltskin had guessed it was Gideon’s visions that enabled him to know who his parents were and how to find them, but how had Gabi known? What had she been doing all day? Why hadn’t she come to find him and Belle like Gideon had?”

“Gabi,” he murmured again, inhaling a shaky breath. “We didn’t send you away.”

“I didn’t think you did,” she said, finally raising her head to look at him. It was like having someone tear his heart out through his throat, seeing his daughter all grown up. A mirror copy of his own eyes stared back at him, full of the same pain and longing that Rumplestiltskin knew all too well.

“What did she do to you?” he whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.

To his surprise, Gabi shrugged. “To me, not much. She never wanted me, not like she did Gideon. I don’t think she knew who I really am. Not to start with, anyway.”

“She didn’t know you were twins?” Rumplestiltskin asked, to which Gabi shook her head. “Then how did you find out?”

“This.” Gabi reached into her jacket and withdrew a crumpled photograph. It was old and faded, but Rumplestiltskin could still make out the picture, and his own handwriting on the back.

_Gabrielle and Gideon, born 1 November 2014. Mama and Papa love you._

“I’m not sure how that made it over, or how she never saw it,” said Gabi. “But it did. Along with the book. It got us through the darkest nights.”

“And told you how to find us,” Rumplestiltskin whispered in wonderment.

“She wanted to turn Gideon to evil, like her,” Gabi continued. “She blames me for why she couldn’t. Because I found that picture. It proved that everything she’d ever told us was a lie. You didn’t give us up, Papa. She stole us from you.”

“She did,” he admitted in a small voice. _I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you._

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, almost as if she had heard him.

Rumplestiltskin looked up. Gabi wore a small smile just like her mother’s; she didn’t blame him, even though she should.

“Gabi, what did she do to you?”

 

**_18 years ago_ **

“Gabrielle!” Eilwen shouted from the other side of the nursery chambers. A mineshaft had collapsed earlier that day, leaving three injured. “Bring me those bandages; I’ve got to stop this bleeding.”

“Okay, I’m on it!”

Unfortunately, blood was not an uncommon sight in the dust mines where Gabi had spent her ten short years. Cave-ins were common, and falling into crevasses or getting hit by rocks were risks everybody knew about. While Eilwen tried to stem the heavy flow from Simon’s leg, Gabi raced into the supply room. The bandages were on the fourth shelf, which was higher than Gabi could reach. She jumped, but still fell short.

“Gabrielle!”

“I’m coming!” Gabi shouted back, thinking quickly. The shelves weren’t stable, but could she use that rock to get purchase and climb up?

She tried it and reached again for the bandages, feeling the coarse linen with her fingertips; she needed to be just a touch higher, so she put her foot on the second shelf –

And the whole thing came down next to her.

Well, at least the bandages were within easy reach now.

Gabi gathered as many as she could while coughing mine dust out of her lungs and wiping her face. The stuff _never_ came off, even when she was allowed to have a bath, and getting it in her eyes was just awful.

_What’s that?_

Something like paper, but shiny, had slipped out of a book that had fallen on the floor along with everything else she’d knocked over. It glinted in the lamplight and curious, Gabi picked it up.

It was like a picture from one of Eilwen’s books, but not _in_ a book and looked like real people instead of pictures. Two of them, each holding a little baby. Gabi frowned. Where had this come from? There was writing on the back, so she turned it over and gasped. She couldn’t read – none of the mine kids could – but she did recognise one word. Her name.

_Gabrielle._

She flipped the picture over again, trying to make sense of it. Who would write her name on the back of this picture, and why?

Danger, her instincts roared. The Black Fairy would have her hide if she started asking questions again.

Yes, put it back, Gabi decided. That was the best course of action. Put it back and pretend she had never seen it. She grabbed the book it had fallen from and opened the front cover –

Where her name was written again.

Eilwen had plenty of books, which she read to the really young children who got hurt or couldn’t sleep after shift, but Gabi had never seen this one before. Why did it have her name in it?

“ _Gabrielle!_ ”

This was important, Gabi thought. But she didn’t have time now – Eilwen needed the bandages. She hid the book behind the linen shelf and shoved the picture into her pocket to look at later, then ran back into the nursery chamber with as many bandages as she could carry.

“What kept you?” Eilwen demanded.

“Sorry,” said Gabi sheepishly. “I knocked over a shelf. Again.”

Eilwen frowned at her, then sighed exasperatedly. “Well, you can fix it later. Go help Diane with Alice.”

“Yes, Eilwen.”

The nursery door opened and Jacob appeared, looking flustered and his too-large helmet threatening to fly off his head. “Assembly!” he shouted, making everyone in the room jump in panic.

Eilwen took all the bandages from Gabi and shoved her in the direction of the supply room. “Quick, shut the door so she won’t notice the mess.”

Gabi didn’t need to be told twice. She had been on the receiving end of the Black Fairy’s fury plenty of times – usually for asking too many questions, which was a violation of Rule Number One: Do not question the Dark Lady – and didn’t need another reason to be working double duty in the mines for a month.

A moment after Gabi shut the supply room door, the Black Fairy strode in. She was a tall woman, at least three times Gabi’s height, and was always dressed in black. Not black like the mine kids’ clothes, which were permanently stained with the dark-coloured dust that almost seemed to ooze out of the rocks, but shiny black like the diamonds that were in the rocks. As she cast her gaze around the room, everyone looked down at their feet in respect. There was no disrespecting the Dark Lady. That was Rule Number Two.

“I understand that there was an accident in the mines earlier,” said the Black Fairy, her face plastered with that permanent smile that just seemed completely false to Gabi. She had seen genuine smiles, and they always came out of a person’s eyes. Not the Black Fairy’s – no, her eyes were always filled with loathing. Especially around Gabi.

“Yes, ma’am,” Eilwen replied dutifully, doing her best to keep her head down while trying to bandage Simon’s leg at the same time.

“Will they live?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

For a moment, the Black Fairy’s gaze drifted over Gabi, and she hurriedly dropped her eyes again.

 _One, two, three, four …_ she counted in her head like Eilwen had taught her. Counting was good. Counting always kept her calm and stopped her from saying things she shouldn’t.

“Take a good look at these pitiful souls, Gideon,” the Black Fairy trilled, interrupting Gabi’s counting as she grabbed Simon’s grubby chin and forced him to look at her. “Be grateful that you are not cursed with squalor like this. Children who aren’t wanted by their parents deserve what they get. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, Mother,” was the monotone reply from the small boy hiding behind the Black Fairy’s skirts, doing his best not to be seen. That was Gideon, the Black Fairy’s ‘apprentice’. Gabi wasn’t sure why he called her ‘Mother’, as Eilwen had once told her that Gideon arrived in the mines on the same day Gabi did. He definitely wasn’t her son.

Nobody liked Gideon very much because he didn’t work in the mines and got to sleep in a real bed and eat whenever he wanted. Frankly, Gabi just felt sorry for him, because all of that came with having to be around that horrible woman _._ At least she had Diane, and Simon and Eilwen. Gideon didn’t have anybody.

“Yes, they are exactly where they belong,” the Black Fairy continued. “Earning their pitiful lots in life.”

“ _They’re only there because you put them there._ ”

 _What?_ Gabi stopped herself from shouting just in time and stood rigid in her spot. She swore she had just heard Gideon speak, but his mouth hadn’t moved.

Although, sometimes … sometimes she thought she heard him through the walls of the castle, crying. Other times, he was wailing for somebody to come and help him. It was one of the reasons she wondered if his life wasn’t as lovely and wonderful as the Black Fairy made it sound. She didn’t know how, exactly; she just _knew_ he was miserable.

The Black Fairy, apparently satisfied with whatever she had been looking for, let Simon go and put a hand on Gideon’s shoulders. “Come. Time for your lessons.”

“Yes, Mother.”

He really did look awful …

Gabi bit her lip and crept closer to the door, where Gideon would pass right by her. Careful to keep her head down, she shut her eyes and thought as loud as she could, _Can you hear me?_

“Just what do you think you are doing?”

Startled, Gabi almost jumped out of her skin and looked straight up. The Black Fairy towered over her, dark eyes blazing as she looked down her nose at Gabi. Words failed her, and all she could do was stammer. The Dark Lady was not amused and shoved her to the ground.

“Get back to work, you little mouse,” she spat, using the pet phrase she seemed to reserve for Gabi alone. “Come, Gideon.”

Gabi fought the urge to cry as the Black Fairy kicked her in the shins on her way out, Gideon padding along obediently behind her. Stupid. What had she been thinking? Just imagining things –

“ _Yes._ ”

Gabi glanced out of the door. For two seconds, Gideon stared straight at her, until he rounded the corner after the Black Fairy and disappeared. But she was certain. He had heard her.

The next question was – _how_?

 

**_One Month Later_ **

“Others before him had cou – cow –

“ _Cow – wered,_ ” Gideon sounded out slowly for her, helping Gabi to pronounce the unfamiliar word. They were sitting together on the floor of his room; he was teaching her to read from _Her Handsome Hero._ A month ago, Gabi had found the book and the picture in the nursery supply room, nicked them and hidden them under her mattress. She couldn’t read what was written on the picture – reading wasn’t for the ‘pitiful souls’, as the Black Fairy called them – but Gideon could.

_Gabrielle and Gideon, born one November two thousand and fourteen. Mama and Papa love you._

They were twins, like Jem and Finley. Brother and sister. It was the only thing that explained it – why they could talk to each other without speaking and why Gabi had found a picture with both of their names on it inside a book written by a person named Gabrielle about someone named Gideon. Their parents must have named them after the author and the hero. Gideon could hardly believe it. He had a twin sister. A family. He’d been alone for so long that even having a friend was unbelievable, but a _sister_?

Why had _she_ kept them apart?

The Black Fairy always said that Gideon was ‘special’ and ‘not like the others’. She never said why. But if he was special, then why _wasn’t_ Gabi?

“ _Cowered_ – cowered in f-fear,” Gabi read, using her finger to help her. “Becoming trag – uh, _trapped_ in its – web. The hero Gideon knew this, but he was un – und – undaw –”

“Undaunted. I think.”

“Ha. He f-fought val – val-i-antly – until he slayed the monster in the – the Echoless Forest and led the villagers to safety –”

 _Sounds like a lot to live up to,_ Gideon thought.

“ _You’re being too hard on yourself,_ ” Gabi replied.

“Oi,” he snapped, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Get out of my head.”

She laughed – so did he, and gods did he love that sound – and had moved on to the next line when there was the sound of a door opening down the hallway.

“It’s her,” he whispered, quickly scrambling to his feet as Gabi shut the book. “Quick, go!”

There was a loose floorboard beneath Gideon’s bed that Gabi was just small enough to slip through. From there, she could get back to her own room via the cellars, which were never occupied this late and avoided the arachnids’ guard patrols. It had been working well for the last month, but they had to be careful. _She_ was never too far away, and those who dared disobey her always paid the price.

Gideon had just slipped the floorboard back into place when his door creaked open, and he jumped onto his bed to hide what he was doing. Thankfully, the door shielded the movement, and _she_ was none the wiser.

“Hello, Gideon,” the Black Fairy trilled as she came into his room and looked around. “You’ve moved your bed.”

“I like it better over here,” Gideon replied evenly, praying she wouldn’t be too suspicious.

She wasn’t. She just made a noise and then said, “You know, I thought I might read you a bedtime story tonight.”

“O-Okay.”

“But when I went to fetch the book,” she mused, crossing her arms in front of her – that was always a _bad_ sign, “it was gone.”

Gideon swallowed, purposefully not answering.

“I don’t suppose you would know anything about that, would you, Gideon?”

“No, Mother,” he said, dropping his gaze in respect. If he had hoped the use of the term would appease her, he was to be disappointed.

“ _Don’t_ lie to me, Gideon,” she growled between gritted teeth, seizing his chin and forcing him to look at her. “You know what happens to liars.”

He did, and the thought made him tremble. But he couldn’t let her hurt Gabi, either. So he stayed silent.

After a moment, she sneered and grabbed him by the ear, tugging sharply. “Come with me.”

“ _Gabi,_ ” Gideon called desperately as the Black Fairy led him down the corridor, past the arachnid guard standing outside the dungeons. “ _She’s coming. Hide the book._ ”

It was the best warning he could give – and that was assuming Gabi could even make it back in time. Gideon still wasn’t sure that the Black Fairy couldn’t hear them talking, but he had no time to worry about it. She marched him through the cells, past Roland, and Diane, and Simon, and Matthew, to the one Gabi slept in. She was there, for which Gideon had to hide his relief. His sister stood up as the Black Fairy magically opened the door and strode in, finally letting go of Gideon’s ear.

“Gabrielle, my darling,” said the Black Fairy in a high voice. Gideon’s heart pounded in his chest. That was bad, too. She _never_ used Gabi’s name. “How are you?”

Gabi was silent for almost a minute, the Black Fairy staring daggers at her. “I – I’m well, ma’am.”

“Good,” the Dark Lady replied, still smiling like she always did. “Now, I have a question for you. And also, for anyone else who may be listening,” she called into the corridor. All of the children were backed against the walls furthest from their doors, terrified. “Do you know what happens to thieves, Gabrielle?”

“I do, ma’am,” Gabi replied in a small voice.

“Good. Because it seems that we have one amongst us. There is a book missing from my collection; perhaps you recognise is? Dark green leather cover, with silver trim and lettering?”

 _I didn’t tell her anything,_ Gideon said quickly, staring at his shoes in case the Black Fairy noticed. _Lie!_

“I don’t know it, ma’am,” said Gabi. “I can’t read.”

“Is that so?” The Black Fairy huffed. “In that case, you won’t have anything to fear from a spot inspection, will you?”

There wasn’t much in the tiny cell – just a bed and a mattress, basically – which she flipped over, finding nothing. Gideon watched his sister out of the corner of his eye. He knew – could feel it in his heart, somehow – that she was scared, but she didn’t let it show. Until the Black Fairy found the loose floorboard that she used to hide the book and tore it up. Gideon shut his eyes. He couldn’t watch.

A second passed. Then two more, and nothing happened.

Gideon opened his eyes again and had to stifle a gasp. The hole was empty.

The Black Fairy stepped back. For the first time Gideon could remember, her mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a look of confusion to shine through. She snapped her head around to look at Gabi, who hurriedly dropped her gaze.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Gabi murmured softly, giving nothing away. “I hope you find your book.”

The Black Fairy scowled a moment longer, which seemed like an eternity to Gideon. He stayed perfectly still – so did Gabi – until, at long last, she turned on her heels and marched out of Gabi’s cell.

“Come, Gideon,” she ordered, locking the door behind them.

She was angry – very, very angry – and shoved Gideon into his room so that he fell and scraped his hands. Then she slammed the door. He stayed there for several minutes, breathing heavily until he heard Gabi’s voice in his head.

“ _Are you okay?_ ” she asked.

 _Yeah,_ he answered, getting off the floor and climbing onto his bed. _How did you do that?_

“ _I don’t know._ ”

 

**_15 years ago_ **

It was too dangerous to sneak around the mines just to see each other after coming so close to being caught. For months afterwards, Gabi barely risked talking to her brother for fear that the Black Fairy could hear them and she put the book back in the supply room, hoping to convince her that she’d just misplaced it after all. It seemed to work, and neither she nor Gideon was punished. Still, Gabi missed her brother dearly, and wanted to scream from the unfairness of it all.

There were other brothers and sisters in the mines. Diane said that Roland was her older brother, and they worked in the same division. Jem and Finley were twins too, and they were allowed to see each other. Why had the Black Fairy kept Gabi apart from Gideon when others were permitted to be together?

Gabi would have screamed and questioned it, but then she’d have to confess to stealing, and that wasn’t happening. Worse, what if the Black Fairy took the picture of their parents from her? Gabi kept it beneath that loose floorboard and only dared to take it out when nobody was looking. It was the only proof she had, and she wasn’t letting _her_ take it away.

So she kept her mouth shut and her head down, and prayed that they would find another way.

And they did, entirely by accident.

It happened about six months after Gabi returned the book. She’d taken the picture out late after shift when the other children in her ward were sleeping, and lay on her bed wondering if it was worth it to try and talk to her brother again. Later, she’d drifted off to sleep, and woken up in a part of the castle she didn’t recognise. Gideon had been there too, and completely surprised to see her. Then Gabi had woken up for real. It had only been a dream.

Except it hadn’t been. Gideon braved discovery to reach out to her, revealing that they’d had the same dream. They had _actually_ been in the dream, and spoken to each other there the same as they did when they were awake.

From then on, they met almost every night in a dreamworld. They had each made a few of their own, built entirely from imagination, and took turns jumping into each other’s dreamworlds.

This one was Gideon’s. He and Gabi were lying on their backs in a field full of little green plants like the ones described in the book – called _grass_ – next to a big puddle of water – not dirty and murky like the collection pool where the mine kids washed, but clear and sparkling. The grass was soft like Gabi barely knew to describe, and the water made gentle lapping sounds as the breeze pushed it against the bank. All around them were glowing white crystals – called _stars –_ bobbing in the air as if hung there by cords (but without the cords). The sky was littered with every colour Gabi could imagine – blue, green, pink, yellow, white, black and purple – and it seemed to go on forever.

“How do you know what they look like?” Gabi asked her brother as she caught one of the floating stars and pulled it close. It was maybe the size of her fist and looked like a silvery-white glittering crystal, but squishy and warm instead of hard and cold. Pale white light poured out of it like flames, and its silver tentacles wrapped themselves around Gabi’s hands. One reached out to tickle her nose, and she giggled.

“I don’t,” Gideon murmured, smiling as he watched her play with the star. Eventually she let it go, and it bobbed into the air, casting a faint white glow over them. Gabi thought it looked happy.

“I dream about this place sometimes,” her brother confessed. “For some reason it makes me think of our mother.”

“Maybe they took us somewhere like this once?” Gabi suggested. It certainly hadn’t come from anywhere in the Dark Realm. There were no stars or sunrises or grass or daylight, or any of those things described in _Her Handsome Hero_ , in the land of the Black Fairy. Just a dark grey fog that obscured everything outside the few windows that hadn’t been boarded up.

Gideon shrugged. “Maybe. But how could I remember?”

“I wish I could remember something like this,” said Gabi wistfully, watching the star fly off to dance with another one of its kind. She reached into her pocket and took out the dream version of the picture of their parents. “Do you think we look like them?”

It was hard to tell, because their parents were so far out of the frame of the picture. It was impossible to know what colour their eyes were, or see their faces in full. Gabi thought that maybe Gideon had their mother’s chin, and from what little they could see of their father, Gabi wondered if he had the same dimples that she had.

At least she could read the writing on the back now that Gideon had taught her. It said: _Gabrielle and Gideon, born one November two thousand and fourteen. Mama and Papa love you._

That last part was the most confusing to Gabi, because the Black Fairy always insisted that the children in her care hadn’t been wanted by their parents; that they had been left alone, to die, and certainly hadn’t been loved. But one of Gabi and Gideon’s parents had written that they did love them, which made no sense to Gabi.

If their parents had loved them, then why did they send them away?

 

**_10 years ago_ **

It was inspection day in the mines. Usually, that was a day Gideon dreaded, because he had to put on the act of the perfect soldier for the Black Fairy – which meant saying things he didn’t want to say, and being mean to the small children when he didn’t want to be – but today was different. Today was his birthday, and being in the mines meant that he got to see Gabi. In person. He saw her almost every night in their dreamworld – it was the only thing that had stopped him from losing his mind all these years – but he still missed seeing her in person.

It was for the best, though. If the Black Fairy suspected them at all, she would hurt Gabi. Gideon didn’t know why the Dark Lady seemed to hate his sister above all others, but she did, and he couldn’t let her hurt Gabi.

Julian, the foreman, covertly slipped him a smile as Gideon descended the stairs into the mines. Thanks to Gabi, most of the mine kids knew that he was only pretending to be cruel for the Black Fairy’s sake. So long as she was placated, he could do things like slip someone an extra ration or fudge a quota entry for someone who was hurt or not feeling well. Nobody said anything, but at least they knew he was on their side. Gabi had even told him that some of them admitted to _liking_ him, which had left Gideon speechless. Nobody except his sister had ever liked him before.

He pretended to look unfriendly as he strode up to his sister’s workplace – fixing a faulty ventilation shaft with help from Roland – and nudged Gabi as he passed.

_Hey. Happy birthday._

“ _Oh, wow,_ ” Gabi replied. “ _You remembered._ ”

Gideon hid a smile and dropped an extra ration tin into the toolbox where Roland – who’d been sick with mine cough for a couple of days – would find it.

“Mind you put your tools somewhere safe,” Gideon snapped firmly, giving the toolbox a kick to hide the noise of the falling tin. “Wouldn’t want somebody to trip, would we?”

“No, sir,” said Roland with just the faintest hint of a smile.

And Gabi was laughing for just Gideon to hear.

“ _Thanks, Gid,_ ” she said when she was through snickering at him. “ _Happy birthday._ ”

“ _Don’t mention it,_ ” Gideon replied, only half-joking. The less _she_ knew, the better for all of them.

As he turned to walk away, a sudden pain gripped his head and he fell against the wall for support. He heard Gabi ask if he was okay – out loud or not, he wasn’t sure – a moment before the mines swirled and another image filled his field of vision.

_A crack in a mine wall. A small boy with curly hair. An axe. Hits the fault line. Support beams give out. Cave-in._

_Cave-in._

Gideon blinked. Eight feet in front of him was that same small boy, holding an axe, and the lights flickered –

_The support structure won’t hold._

“Get out of the tunnel!” Gideon shouted, grabbing the nearest person and shoving them to safety. Dust fell from the ceiling, and there was a low rumbling sound, then a crack – Gideon grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him out of the tunnel as the rocks started to fall –

Somebody yanked on his shoulders as a great crash reverberated through the mines. Eventually the dust cleared and his ears stopped ringing, and Gideon realised he was lying on the ground with people bustling all around him.

“Simon! Get Eilwen, now!”

“Julian, over here!”

“Come on, boys, lift him out.”

“Charlie! Charlie, can you hear me?!”

Slowly, Gideon picked himself up off the ground, clumsily because his eyes couldn’t seem to focus.

 _This is why we wear helmets down here,_ he chided himself. Fool.

Somebody dropped down by Gideon’s side. “Hey,” said Diane, slowly coming into focus. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gideon insisted, gently pushing her away. His head hurt, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Charlie, on the other hand …

As Julian and Roland lifted heavy rocks off the poor boy’s leg, Gabi hauled Charlie out of the rubble. Eilwen arrived a moment later with Simon on her heels. Gideon was no healer, but one look was enough to know it was bad. Very, very bad.

“ _Gid!_ ” Gabi shouted, finally getting his attention. “ _Can you do anything?_ ”

 _I don’t know,_ Gideon replied honestly. The Black Fairy had been teaching him magic – only a little bit, for purposes he didn’t want to think about right now – but not healing magic. But then, if he did nothing –

“Let me in,” Gideon said, pushing Simon to the side. He had to try.

“Stand aside, all of you,” snapped a new voice that made Gideon’s blood run cold. “Now.”

Gideon obeyed. So did Julian, Diane and Eilwen. Gabi stayed a moment longer, holding Charlie’s hand.

_Gabi, please._

She stepped back.

“This is the child who caused this incident?” the Black Fairy asked, looking down at the ashen-faced boy as if he were something sticky that got on her boots.

“It was an accident, ma’am,” said Julian.

“This section of the mines was closed due to instability, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you were all in full awareness of that fact?”

“Yes, ma’am, but –”

The Black Fairy raised a hand. Julian quietened instantly.

“He is not to be given food or water,” she decreed sharply while turning on her heels, her tone _daring_ somebody to argue with her.

And argue somebody did.

“That’ll kill him!” Gabi cried, taking a step forwards. Roland held her back, for which Gideon gave a silent word of thanks; otherwise, he feared his sister would have done something they’d _all_ regret. “He needs help!”

“Fools do not survive the Dark Mines, little mouse; you know that,” the Black Fairy snapped over her shoulder. “He must pay the consequences of his incompetence.”

“It was an accident!”

The Black Fairy wheeled around, her eyes like fire and fixated on Gabi. “Are you questioning me, Gabrielle?!” she demanded. “I would have thought by now you’d have learned when to hold your tongue!”

“He’ll die,” said Gideon, which made the Black Fairy turn on him instead. At least her attention was off Gabi. “You might as well kill him yourself right now!”

Something dangerous flashed in her eyes that made Gideon tremble. “Oh?” she said as though she found him amusing. “Is that so? Well, I’m not stopping you. If you think that death is more … _merciful,_ then put this wretched creature out of his misery.”

Gideon froze. She couldn’t be telling him to –

Except she had been bringing rabbits to their lessons lately and trying to make him rip their hearts out and crush them. He’d refused, which had just made her angry – but still, she wouldn’t have orchestrated _this_!

Would she?

She fixed him with _that_ stare. Gideon tried not to gape. No. She couldn’t have.

“That’s what I thought,” the Black Fairy said eventually, giving Charlie one last scowl of distaste. “Treat the boy as best you can, but he is not to be given food or water. Precious resources should not be wasted on _fools_ , should they? Gideon?”

“No, Mother,” he murmured. On the ground, Charlie moaned in pain and Gideon’s throat clenched from guilt.

“Good. Come.”

And so he followed her out of the mines like the coward he was.

Later, Gideon sat on the edge of his bed, holding his head in his hands with his elbows braced on his knees. No matter what he did, Charlie’s face kept popping up in his vision, taunting him. He should have stood up to her, should have done _something_ to save that boy – even just to spare him a slow and painful death –

“ _Gid?_ ” Gabi called at some point during the nightmare. Gideon took a breath before answering.

_Hey. Are you okay?_

“ _I’m fine. Listen … Charlie didn’t make it._ ”

Gideon was numb. _When?_

“ _Just now. Eilwen did everything she could. I’m sorry.”_

Tears started tumbling down his cheeks. Gideon hid his face again from shame.

“I’m sorry, too.”

 

**_A few months ago_ **

The plans had been laid down, preparations made and the children were all ready to go. Over a year of hard work, plotting and undermining the Black Fairy’s will was about to pay off. Never again would a child be worked to death in her charge, or forcibly separated from their family. No longer would Gideon have to pretend to be her loyal servant, and Gabi have to stay away from her own brother. Julian and Roland were making the final preparations right as Gabi waited for her brother in her favourite dreamworld. It was a castle like the Black Fairy’s, but with open windows pouring in bright light and flowers growing on the windowsills. A long table ran the length of the room, with bookshelves on one wall and a spinning wheel in front of a roaring fireplace.

“Gideon!” she exclaimed happily, putting her book down before running to hug him. He was so tall now that she had to stand on her toes to do that. “It’s all ready to go. One more day. Then we’re free.”

“I know. Listen –” Gideon put his hands on her shoulders, and Gabi realised he was panicking. “You need to call it off.”

“What?”

“Gabi, she _knows._ ”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” said Gideon, shaking his head. “But she knows. I’ve seen it. She knows, and it’s all going to fail.”

Gabi bit her lip. They’d figured out ten years ago that Gideon – somehow – had the power to see the future when he’d foreseen the accident that killed poor Charlie. He was pretty accurate, but this was maybe their one chance to bring the Black Fairy down –

“We can’t just call it off; it’s too late now!”

“You _have_ to,” Gideon begged, gripping her shoulders tightly. “Gabi, please! People are gonna die!”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” she said, taking hold of his hands. “What did you see?”

“Does it matter? Gabi –”

“No,” she insisted, looking him straight in the eye. “Tell me _exactly_ what you saw.”

His eyes widened as he realised what she was asking, and he grinned proudly. A piece of paper appeared on the table, and a pen, and they started on the new plans.

* * *

 

But even with the last-minute modifications Gabi made to the plans, it still failed. The ventilation shaft exploded at exactly the moment Gideon had seen the Black Fairy standing in the way, but she wasn’t there. Instead, she was waiting in her vault for Roland and Julian’s arrival, and caught the two of them along with Gabi and Diane. His visions had been wrong, Gideon realised as he stood in the shadows, watching the Black Fairy assert her rule over the rebels. How, he didn’t know – they had always been right before – but it was his fault the plan failed. Roland, Diane, Gabi and Julian were on their knees in front of the Dark Lady, and the rest held back by a tangle of spiderwebs. The arachnids clicked their mandibles frighteningly over the small children, who were already afraid enough.

“Did you really think you could kill me?” the Black Fairy asked in a dangerous whisper, her back to the four instigators. “Did you really think it would be _so_ easy?”

The plan hadn’t been completely unsuccessful. The Black Fairy had been hurt in a tunnel cave-in intended to keep the arachnid guards from reaching the vault; her arms and neck were badly burnt, and she was bleeding from a wound on her shoulder. But all that did was make her angry.

“How did you get the key to my vault?” she demanded. “How did you _steal_ from me? Unless … of course … you had _help._ ”

She raised her eyes to glare at him. Gideon went cold but kept his mouth shut. If he told her the truth – that it had really been Roland who stole the key, then she would kill him. But Gideon might have a chance if she thought it had been him.

“Gideon,” the Black Fairy murmured both gently and furiously. “My Gideon. After everything I’ve given you, everything I’ve done for you … _this_ is how you repay me?”

“He didn’t know!”

_Gabi, don’t!_

“He didn’t know,” Gabi repeated despite his protests, and the Black Fairy turned to face her.

“Didn’t he?” she asked mockingly.

Gabi gulped, bravely staring straight ahead. “Well, how could he?”

“You tell me, Gabrielle.”

 _Gabi, just let her blame me!_ Gideon screamed, begging his sister to cooperate. _She’ll let me live! She’ll kill you!_

“Well, little mouse?”

Gabi was silent. The Black Fairy, now visibly fuming, stretched out a hand and grabbed her by the throat.

“NO!” Gideon shouted as Gabi began to gasp for air. The Black Fairy let her go nonetheless, her fury now turned back to Gideon. “If you want to punish someone, punish me.”

“ _Gid, no!_ ”

Ignoring his sister, Gideon kept talking. “I knew. I knew what they were planning and I didn’t stop them. Punish me.”

The Black Fairy’s face contorted, a mix of anger and disappointment. Gideon steeled himself, knowing what was coming. But he would live. The others would not.

“Why?” she asked between gritted teeth. “Why would you betray me like that?”

“Because you’re a monster. I should have stood up to you long ago. These people – they’ve suffered enough!”

“Have they?” She clicked her tongue, and one of the arachnids scuttled over. Webs whipped from the spider’s body and captured Gabi and Roland’s wrists. “Because as far as I can see, these ones have just _begun_ to suffer.”

“NO!”

Gideon grabbed a vial of dark fairy dust off a table and threw it, not sparing a second to think.

She turned, and the dust hit her in the face.

It had no effect.

“ _How – dare – you?!_ ” the Black Fairy thundered. “How dare you betray your own mother?!

Then there was a flash of metal. Gabi had cut herself free from the webs and launched herself at the Black Fairy.

“ _You are not his mother!_ ” Gabi screamed. “You’re a liar, and a monster! You stole us from our parents!”

The knife cut her cheek, but that was all Gabi managed to do before a wave of magic shoved her to the ground. The Black Fairy raised her hand, but stopped, looking from Gideon to his sister with a look of dawning realisation. That cold feeling descended on Gideon again.

“ _Our_ parents?” she asked, glaring at Gideon. “So. You two have figured out the truth after all, have you?”

“Yes,” said Gideon, lifting his chin. He wasn’t going to let her intimidate him anymore.

“I see,” she replied, deadly eyes drifting over to Roland. “And, uh, exactly how did you come to learn this truth, my boy?”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

The Black Fairy’s nose twitched. “Suit yourself.”

Gideon braced himself, but he wasn’t her target. She whirled around, thrust her hand deep into Roland’s chest and tore out his heart.

“NO!” Diane screamed. Julian held her back. “No, no, take me instead!”

“Let this be a lesson for all of you,” the Black Fairy proclaimed, ignoring Diane’s cries. “A lesson, in what happens to disobedient children!”

And she crushed it to ash. All Gideon could do was stare as Roland crumbled to the floor, and the Black Fairy sneered in triumph.

“This is on you, Gideon,” she growled. “And my boots.”

She kicked Gabi, still on the ground, in the abdomen, making her shout in pain before throwing her boots at her.

“Clean them, little mouse,” she spat, kicking Gabi once more for good measure. “ _Thoroughly._ Gideon, come with me.”

* * *

 

_Maybe now you’ll understand, Gideon. You are not a hero._

It had been weeks since the failed rebellion, and Gideon had not heard a word from his sister. He was almost afraid to reach out to her for fear that _she_ could hear – or worse, he wouldn’t get an answer.

He hadn’t been allowed to leave his room in all these weeks, as punishment. He had no idea what the Black Fairy had done to his sister, or to Diane and Julian, or to Eilwen and Simon, Matthew, Alice. All of those kids. He didn’t even know if she had let them bury Roland.

Gods, Roland.

Gideon wanted to break down and cry every time he thought about it. Roland had always been there for Gabi when Gideon couldn’t be, and he would always be grateful for that. Now he was gone, because Gideon had been weak. He could have done more. He should have done more.

“ _Gid?_ ”

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

_Gabi?_

“ _Hey. Open the window._ ”

_What?_

“ _I’m outside your window. Help me get these boards off._ ”

_What? How?_

“ _I’ll explain later. Let me in!_ ”

The boards were already loose – Gideon had spent years prying them off to sneak a look at the world outside the castle – so it didn’t take much to break them completely and then smash the window. Gabi kicked shards of broken glass off the sill, slipped inside and threw her arms around him.

“What are you doing here?” Gideon asked when they broke apart.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting you out of here!”

“What? No –”

“Gideon, she is torturing you!”

“She’ll _kill_ you!”

“No!” Gabi sighed exasperatedly and then pulled him down to sit on his bed. “Listen – Diane told me about something Roland told her before he died. Somebody who might help us destroy _her_ for good.”

“Who?”

“The Saviour.”

“Who?”

“Her name is Emma Swan,” Gabi explained. “According to Roland, she’s the most powerful light sorceress in existence. The place where Roland came from, she lives there. A place called Storybrooke.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Storybrooke? Really?”

“It’s real. And not just that – we were born there.”

He blinked, holding her hand tightly. She didn’t move.

“And … you think she might help us?”

“I think it’s worth a try.”

“But how –” Gideon stopped, an idea coming to mind. “The door in her vault! We can use it to get there!”

“And the book and the picture to guide us to the right place,” Gabi added, nodding enthusiastically.

“Do you –” he started, swallowing heavily. “Do you think our parents might still be there?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go!”

**_Present Day_ **

“Roland told me about the Saviour before he died,” said Gabi as her story came to a close. “The most powerful light sorcerer in all the realms – surely if anybody could defeat the Black Fairy, she could.”

“Perhaps,” Rumplestiltskin murmured, still struggling to process everything his daughter had just told him. Not just how she and her brother had suffered under the Black Fairy’s rule, but how their love for each other and for their parents – and in turn, his and Belle’s for them – had allowed them to fight her. Enough that they had brought hope into a dead world, and led a – admittedly failed – rebellion against the greatest evil Rumplestiltskin could imagine. He was torn between a rage that threatened to tear the Black Fairy to pieces for what she had done to his children, and pride like he couldn’t begin to describe at how they had resisted her attempts to turn them to evil. “That’s why you came here.”

“He told us about Storybrooke, and how to find you,” Gabi replied with a nod. “A little while after the rebellion failed, Gideon managed to sneak us back into her vault. There’s a door in there, the portal she uses to steal children from this land. We used the picture to guide us back here. To you and Mum.”

“And you want to go _back_ there?” Rumplestiltskin exclaimed. “With Emma? To defeat the Black Fairy for good.”

Gabi grimaced. “Well, that _was_ the plan. But I’ve been watching them all day and … they probably wouldn’t help us if we just asked, would they?”

“Probably not,” Rumplestiltskin agreed.

“Why do they think Gideon is here to kill Emma?”

“Because she had a vision of somebody killing her, and the Blue Fairy has been fuelling her paranoia,” he grumbled with distaste.

“And they hate you.”

“Yes.”

“We made a promise, Papa,” Gabi whispered, making Rumplestiltskin look up. “To go back and help those people. I’m not going back on my word.”

“I’m not suggesting you should,” he said. “But convincing them to help us … I’m not so sure. But –” he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze – “I’ll do everything in my power to help you. I promise.”

“You will?”

“Of course I will.”

Tears appeared in her eyes a moment before she hugged him, squeezing tightly. Rumplestiltskin hugged her back while the cogs in his mind started to turn, formulating a plan. It would take some work, but he was going to help Gabi and Gideon save those children if it was the last thing he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part IX: Belle and Robin search for Gideon, who goes to Emma to make a deal.
> 
> I’m not saying that Roland and Charlie’s conditions, or anybody’s, is permanent, by the way :)


	9. Part IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some strong language in this chapter. Also very anti-Emma, anti-Snow and anti-David. To your left are some polo mallets, if you feel the need to use them at the end of the chapter

The moment it was light enough to see in the morning, Robin followed Belle out to the woods to look for her son. It was freezing cold, but there was no dissuading her, especially after Rumplestiltskin didn’t answer his phone.

“Gideon!” Belle called into the unresponsive woods, disturbing a flock of early birds. “Gideon! It’s Mum! If you can hear me, I just want to talk!”

“He’s not a lost dog, Belle,” said Regina, appearing from behind a tree.

“What are you doing here?” Robin snapped. He regretted it when a hurt look crossed Regina’s face, but he really didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted to see his kids again, and the heroes were less than useless. “If you’re just here to spy on us for –”

“Robin, it wasn’t me!”

“What?”

“It wasn’t me,” Regina repeated earnestly. “I didn’t tell them about Gideon.”

“Then how –”

“Belle?” shouted a nearby voice that made Robin groan in annoyance. “Robin? You out here?”

 _Yeah, and I wish you weren’t,_ Robin grumbled to himself as David, Snow and Hook appeared. “What the hell are you three doing here?”

David held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Robin, we just want to help.”

“Help; yeah, right,” Belle scoffed. “If you really wanted to help, you wouldn’t have gone running to the Witch.”

“Belle –” said David, taking a step forwards while Snow and Hook hung back. Robin noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Snow’s cheek still bore the evidence of Belle’s surprisingly powerful smack the night before.

“Get away from me,” Belle snapped, slapping David’s hand when he reached for her, and she went to storm away.

Hook growled in annoyance. “Belle, come on. See reason, won’t you?”

 _Uh-oh,_ Robin thought as everything froze, and the entire forest seemed to drop about ten degrees of temperature. He and Regina each subtly took a step back, out of the impending line of fire, as Belle slowly turned on her heel to face the pirate.

“Excuse me?” she said. “‘ _See reason_ ’?”

For once, Hook realised he’d said the wrong thing. “Love –”

“Don’t – ‘ _love_ ’ – me!” Belle cried, her voice steadily rising in pitch as she pointed a shaking finger at Hook. Robin really thought she might hit him too, if Snow hadn’t stepped in the way and taken hold of Belle’s elbow.

“Belle, he just meant that –”

“I don’t care!” Belle shouted, wrenching free of Snow’s hold. “I – am – _sick_ – of your sanctimony, and your arrogance, Snow! I _know_ you wanted to kill them when I was still pregnant! I _know_ you were going to lock Rumple in a cage and force me to give up _our_ baby! You want to kill my son, and you want me to stand aside and let you do it! Well, I’ve had it!”

She was red-faced and raging now. Snow cringed, actually backing down for once.

“And you know what the worst part is?” Belle continued, now crying freely. “You know – you _know_ how this feels! You _know_ what it is like to have your baby taken from you. You _know_ what it is like to find out that they grew up alone, and tortured, and _used_ , for _twenty-eight years!_ You know how it feels! So how dare you stand there, and judge me, and pretend to be the bloody victim! You know _exactly_ how this feels. And I can _never_ forgive you.”

And with that, Belle turned again and stormed off into the woods. Maybe three seconds passed in which nobody seemed to know what to do; David was the one to break the spell by taking one step in Belle’s direction. Robin grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to a stop.

“I wouldn’t follow her if I were you.”

“Robin, we need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Okay, let me put that another way: don’t come after us, or I will shoot you myself.”

Hook scoffed. “You’re choosing to trust the Crocodile?”

“Over you?” Robin returned sharply. Then he hefted his bow and turned to follow Belle. Sadly, the fools were not yet done.

“Robin, they are the Dark One’s children!” Snow shouted after him, making Robin stop in his tracks. “How could they possibly be here for anything good?”

“First of all,” said Robin calmly, despite the ire boiling his blood, as he turned back to them, “they are not _just_ Rumplestiltskin’s kids. They’re Belle’s too. _Baelfire’s_ brother and sister. You do remember Bae, don’t you? Yea high, brown eyes, nice manners? Good man. Sacrificed his life to save all of our arses? You named your son for him? _Henry’s father?!_ Do you even remember him at all? ‘Cause it bloody well doesn’t seem like it!”

“Robin, Gideon is trying to kill Emma!” David shouted, completely ignoring the question.

“Oh! So when it’s your daughter’s _boyfriend_ going on a bloody rampage,” said Robin, jabbing a thumb at Hook, “and threatening the entire damn town, _he_ gets a free pass, but when it’s anyone outside your _charming_ little family, you can’t even spare ten minutes to hear them out? You take a chance on this bastard, Zelena, Hades – but Belle’s kid is somehow different? You’re a fucking hypocrite, mate, and it’s about time somebody told you.”

“Don’t you talk to me like –”

“I’ll talk to you however I bloody well feel like it!” Robin bellowed, all but spitting in the former prince’s face. “You lost the last of my respect when you went to _Zelena_ for help!”

“Robin, Rumplestiltskin is a monster,” said Snow.

“No, he’s not.”

“Really?” Hook scoffed again. “What is he then?”

“He’s a father,” said Robin without hesitation. “It’s not something _you’d_ understand.”

And with that, leaving David pale-faced with shame and Hook just looking confused, Robin went after his real friend.

“Don’t come after us,” he reminded them one last time.

* * *

 

The look on his mother’s face made Gideon want to break that bastard pirate’s neck in a way he’d once thought he reserved for Damhsa a’Deireadh. Not only had the pirate dared insult Gideon’s father right in front of his mother – he didn’t even seem to care one bit about it.

And Emma Swan claimed to love _him_?

Gideon had little understanding of romantic love beyond what he had seen of his parent’s relationship, and the pirate’s just did not seem comparable. Love, whether romantic or between family, was supposed to make each party stronger. Happier. Lighter. Gideon understood that part well enough. Gabi’s love had kept him from giving in to the Black Fairy for twenty-eight years. His love in return, she claimed, was what gave her the courage to lead the rebellion, however poorly it had ended.

But Hook … he just seemed to use love as an excuse to lay claim to the Saviour in the same way one might claim ownership of a good helmet, or an axe. Emma, in turn, looked weaker for all of Hook’s ‘affection’; like she was carrying a great burden on her shoulders that nobody could lift. If it hadn’t been for the interference of that witch, Gideon knew he would have taken Emma down. The Saviour was not supposed to be like that. Love wasn’t supposed to make you weak. Love did not make you the owner of another person. It didn’t make any sense at all to Gideon; how could _this_ be love?

Actually, if he was entirely honest, it reminded him a little too much of how Damhsa had always claimed to love _him_ …

But Gideon really didn’t want to think of that right now.

The pirate was a bastard, an idiot and of little use beyond his potential as a coat hanger; but Gideon still might have a use for him.

He kept himself hidden behind a tree as the pirate argued with the mayor and the Saviour’s parents, listening for any information he could use.

“Regina, you have to talk to him,” said the one named Snow. “He’ll listen to you.”

“Since when? And I’m not so convinced that he’s wrong.”

Gideon smiled to himself. One potential ally, perhaps?

“What the hell is with you lately?” snapped the pirate. “First you warn the bloody Crocodile and ruin our plans to get the baby, now you’re siding with him too?”

“We are going about this the wrong way. We don’t even know what they’re really doing here –”

“He is the Crocodile’s son! What more do you bloody need?!”

Gideon had heard enough. He stepped out from behind the tree. Four pairs of eyes turned on him, with just enough time to register his presence before Gideon knocked three of them unconscious with a wave of magic, leaving only the pirate standing. Hook drew his sword, which made Gideon laugh.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to do this, Captain,” said Gideon, waving a hand. Lacking magic, the pirate had no defences and let out a squeak as he began to shrink, smaller and smaller until he was no bigger than a mine rat. “But I came here for a reason, and you are only getting in the way.”

He picked up the miniaturised pirate and held him between his forefinger and thumb. Hook was no less ugly, but at least now the only sounds coming out of him were pathetic high-pitched squeals.

Gideon hadn’t intended to involve anyone who didn’t have to be, and he hated to do this – even to this pathetic wretch who barely qualified as human – but he had come to Storybrooke for the Saviour. And if she wouldn’t help him willingly, then she left him no choice. The Black Fairy was a menace that could not be allowed to walk free.

And the pirate wouldn’t be hurt. There was no need for that. Although Gideon would have been lying if he’d said that it wasn’t satisfying to hear the pirate’s squeal of pain as he landed with a thump at the bottom of the bottle Gideon had brought to keep him in.

“ _That_ was for my mother,” he said, glaring at the miniaturised man through the glass.

* * *

 

Emma didn’t feel like going to the station even though she knew that she had to. There was just so much going on, and things that needed doing. Around town, and in the house too. It was a mess. The laundry needed to be put away, the dishes needed cleaning – Hook had said he’d do them, but he’d headed out so early and he’d obviously forgotten. Emma leant against the counter and sighed. She hadn’t even had a shower, and it was only eight thirty. Why did she feel so drained already?

The unwashed dishes sat in the sink, taunting her. She sighed again and had somehow managed to pull herself around the counter to start stacking them in the dishwasher when Henry padded down the stairs in his school uniform.

“I’m off,” he said gruffly without looking at her. “See you later, Mom.”

“See you, Henry. Can you do me a favour?”

“Sure.”

“Can you do the laundry when you get home? Just put in the dryer; I can put it away.”

Henry was silent for a second. “Where’s Hook? It’s his day off; why can’t he do it?”

“Because he’s gone with Mom and Dad to look for this guy, and then he said he has to do something on the Jolly –”

“You know what, Mom? Forget I asked,” Henry snapped, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m late for school. God forbid that a pirate actually do something responsible for a change –”

“What?” Emma asked, unsure if she had heard Henry’s mumbles properly, but her son was already gone. She grumbled and banged her fist against the sink as the door slammed shut behind him.

 _It’s okay, it’s okay; get a grip on yourself,_ she said firmly, taking several deep breaths. Henry would come around eventually, and she would talk to Hook about his housekeeping slip-ups. He’d lived on a ship for most of his life – it was to be expected he’d take a bit of adjusting. Regardless of what was going on with Gideon and the prophecy, things were good right now. There was no need for any of them to start snapping at each other –

“Hello, Emma.”

She spun around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice coming from the stairs. Its owner was leaning casually against the wall, dressed differently – in a black coat and slacks instead of the shiny robes – but him nonetheless.

“Hi, Gideon,” said Emma, mentally running through her choices. She’d left her gun upstairs, and didn’t think a kitchen knife would do her much good. “You here to try and kill me again?”

“I was never here to kill you, Emma,” Gideon replied, straightening and taking a step into the kitchen. “If your family had let me talk instead of threatening my father and trying to kill me, maybe I’d have had the chance to tell you.”

“The vision –”

“Visions don’t always come true. Believe me. I’m something of an expert.”

That was hardly reason to believe him. Emma stood her ground and crossed her arms. “Then why are you here?”

“I came to Storybrooke to ask for your help.”

“I’m not really in a helping mood right now.”

“Indeed. I noticed,” Gideon said with a little huff that was exactly like Gold’s, and Emma did not like it. “But I think you’ll find that helping me would be in your best interests.”

“Why?”

“Because the Black Fairy is on her way to Storybrooke.”

Emma stared, but Gideon remained impassive. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know for sure,” he replied. “All I know is that she’s found a way to break free of Rheul Ghorm’s chains, and she’s coming here. She is the mother of chaos, the greatest force of darkness ever to walk the earth. A monster. I’m not powerful enough to stand against her – that’s why I need you.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because you’re the Saviour. The greatest of light magic, the truest hero in all the realms, the product of True Love. You’re the one destined to fight the Final Battle. Together, we can destroy the Black Fairy and end the darkness forever.”

“How do I know you’re not really working _for_ her, and this is all meant to lead me into a trap?”

Gideon shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Not good enough. Now get out of my house before I finish what I started last night.”

For a moment, she thought he might hit something. Then he scoffed again, the look of a mad man about to do something unpredictable on his face – the same one his father wore often around Emma’s family – and shook his head at her.

“I _really_ did not want to do this,” Gideon said, slowly drawing something out of his coat pocket. “You _will_ help me, Emma. Or you will never see your beloved captain ever again.”

He held up a clear bottle that glinted in the light, upside down so that the neck faced downwards. Inside was something that looked like a miniaturised human being beating his fists – one of them strangely shiny and crooked – against the glass –

“Hook!”

She lunged for the bottle, but it disappeared in a cloud of golden smoke. Gideon was smirking.

“Where did you send him?!”

“Somewhere you will never find him. Unless you help me.”

“Like hell!”

There was a steak knife within reach on the counter. Not ideal, but it would do. Emma grabbed it and swung it at Gideon, who easily dodged the blow and grabbed her wrist. He had a strong grip, one that Emma could not wrest free from.

“All I want is your help,” he said, the faintest traces of a scowl forming on his brow. “Is that so much to ask?”

“You’ve got a funny way of asking for a favour.”

“Well, I suspected that without a little nudging, I already knew the answer I’d get.”

“You got that right,” Emma growled, shoving him hard with her free hand. It cost her grip the knife, but she didn’t need it – the rage was enough to fuel a solid wall of magical power, and she threw it at Gideon with all her might. He waved most of it aside, but a little caught him and knocked him to the floor. While Emma got another knife, Gideon started laughing.

“You want to kill me, Emma?” he asked derisively, still on the carpet. “Fine. Go ahead. If the Black Fairy makes it to Storybrooke, I’m dead anyway. You’d be doing me a favour. So go ahead. Kill me. I have nothing to lose – can you say the same?”

“What about your sister?” His eyes flashed. “Yeah. I know about her. Are you willing to gamble her life along with yours?”

“If you dare hurt her,” Gideon growled, clenching his teeth, “I swear you will never see your captain again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll find a way.”

Screw the knife. Emma waved her hand, and Gideon flew into a post, hitting it with a satisfying thunk.

“You tried to kill me, and you failed,” she warned him as he picked himself up off the floor, “and now you think you can bully me?”

He stood up, glaring at her with a thousand daggers, but Emma wasn’t done.

“I will never help you. If you don’t bring Hook back on your own, I will make you do it.”

And she socked him in the jaw. It felt good to hit something again.

Sadly, he did not fall, or even stumble, but locked his elbows in by his sides, breathing heavily and stiff as a board. Some blood dribbled out of his mouth. Emma raised a hand to strike again, but Gideon slowly straightened. And the look in his eyes was deadly.

“Do you really think you frighten me?” he asked in a low, threatening growl. “Do you think anything frightens me? You have no idea what I’ve been through. I was _raised_ by the Black Fairy. Do you know – can you even _begin_ to comprehend the depths of depravity in her soul? If I don’t stop her, no-one will. People are depending on me to save them – children that I swore to protect. So you – you think – you think _you’re_ so righteous? You think _I’m_ the bad guy? You are _so_ far wrong, Saviour. Or should I even call you that?”

His blood dripped onto the floor. Gideon didn’t seem to notice, too worked up to care. Emma instinctively took a step back when she realised his hands were shaking, balled up into fists that crackled with golden sparks.

“You know, Roland told us about you,” he continued, in a slightly more controlled tone. “He said you were a hero. A good woman who fought for what was right no matter what; protected her people no matter what. Well, there is evil the likes of which you cannot even _begin_ to comprehend on its way here, to your precious town. So I would take a long, hard look in the mirror, Emma Swan, and decide what you want to do about it.”

He glared at her, barely controlled fury burning in those brown eyes of his – just like his father.

“Or think about how badly you want to see your pirate again,” he added with a sneer. “Whichever works for you.”

And with that, he swung his hand as if to strike the floor, and disappeared in that same golden cloud that had carried Hook away. Emma turned around and kicked the table in frustration, then threw the salt and pepper shakers across the kitchen for good measure. Then she planted her fists on the table, thinking hard.

There had to be a way to find Hook; no matter how powerful Gideon was, there had to be a way. Blue would know. She had to know. Emma went to grab the house phone and was halfway through dialling the convent when she did a double-take. The sink was empty, and all of the dishes neatly stacked in the dishwasher.

 _Did I do that?_ Emma asked herself. She honestly couldn’t remember. Weird.

* * *

 

Finally, Rumple had answered his phone. His cell had died, so Belle finally got hold of him at the shop around ten o’clock. Robin offered to keep searching the woods while Belle hurried back to town. She needed to find her son before somebody else did – like the Charmings. There was no knowing what they would do to Gideon if they got to him first.

A part of Belle – a surprisingly large part – did not regret going off at them at all. In fact, she was almost able to convince herself that they deserved it. What if that had been Neal running around the woods, lost and alone? Or little Pip Solberg, Philip and Aurora’s boy? Or Alexandra Herman? Just because it was _Rumple’s_ son – God, Belle felt angry just thinking about it.

“Hey. Robin’s still searching for Gideon in the woods,” Belle called when she opened the shop door, ignoring the ‘Closed’ sign. “I didn’t have much luck, though.”

“No, neither did I,” said Rumple, giving her a hug. “I think he’s blocking his signal so he can’t be tracked.”

“He’s shutting me out, too,” said a new voice that made Belle jump. “He stopped answering me a couple of days ago.”

“Gabi?” Belle asked, staring at the young woman leaning against the counter. She looked up and smiled.

“Hi, Mum.”

It was indeed her little girl, all grown up. A little worse for wear than her brother – neither Belle nor Rumple were particularly big people, but Gabi was awfully thin even by their standards – but alive.

“Oh, my God,” Belle murmured, rushing forwards to hug her daughter. That was easier with Gabi – she was a little bit taller than Belle, but nowhere near Gideon’s total six feet of height. “My girl. What happened to you?”

“It’s a long story, Mum, and we don’t have a lot of time,” Gabi said as she pulled out of Belle’s embrace. “We’re all in trouble.”

“The Black Fairy. I know.”

“You don’t know everything –”

But she broke off as the door opened, bell jingling. Belle quickly pulled her daughter into the back room. She could guess who it was, and she did not want those people anywhere near Gabrielle right now.

“Stay here,” she said. Gabi nodded, so Belle went back to join her husband.

“Gold, you had better have answers,” David demanded as he and Snow strode into the shop like they owned the place. Even looking at the back of his head, Belle knew Rumple was rolling his eyes.

“Well, if you want answers, I suggest you start by asking nicely,” Rumple returned, crossing his arms and standing solidly in the way of the door to the back room.

“I don’t have time to be nice. Your son has a death wish and if he messes with my daughter one more time, I’d be happy to fulfil it.”

“And I’d be happy to help,” said Snow. “It’s been a while since we’ve had some husband-wife bonding time.”

“Oh, you would now, would you?” Belle growled in an undertone. Snow’s jaw still bore the bruise from last night, but unfortunately, her mouth still worked.

“He attacked us in the woods and stuffed Hook into a bottle,” David continued, ignoring Belle’s comment. “Then he went to Emma and told her that if she wouldn’t help him, he’d kill Hook.”

“Really?” Rumple asked, raising his eyebrows in what Belle knew was an expression of approval. The Charmings completely missed it.

“Yes. Now who the hell is the Black Fairy, and why is Gideon working for her?”

Rumple’s jaw tensed. “My son is not working for the Black Fairy.”

“He has been trying to kill Emma since he set foot in this town,” said Snow, “and now he wants her help to destroy the Black Fairy? Don’t kid me, Gold, he’s setting her up. He knows he can’t beat Emma in a fair fight, so he’s leading her into a trap instead.”

“David, please,” Belle said, turning to the former prince. Her opinion of Snow was the lowest it had ever been, but David had always had a good head on his shoulders. He would not have been the one to get Zelena involved, and had been against killing the twins in utero. If she could convince anybody, it would be him. “Please don’t hurt Gideon. He is not evil – he’s the product of what the Black Fairy did to him. If you’d just help him, you’d realise he’s been on the side of good all along.”

David pursed his lips, gave his wife a look and then slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Belle. But the evidence just doesn’t point that way. Gideon came here to kill Emma and now he’s attacked Hook.”

“We didn’t come here to kill anybody!” Gabi all but screamed as she showed herself, making both of the Charmings jump. “We came here to ask for your _help!_ Now I can see that was a bloody waste of time.”

“Gabi,” Belle murmured, gently reaching for her daughter. Rumple cleared his throat for the Charmings’ attention.

“Belief in good and hope is not the only reason to spare my son and help destroy the Black Fairy. Right now, we have an opportunity to not only to defeat her and save him, but to save all of us.”

Snow huffed in derision. “Us? She hasn’t threatened anybody else.”

“That’s because she’s trapped in another realm,” Rumple explained with a mask of calmness, “only able to break free long enough to steal a child before it pulls her back in. But now she’s found a way to free herself for good, and if she makes it to Storybrooke, well … let’s just say it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“We can handle it,” said David. “Emma can handle it. She handled you and broke your curse, the one that started this whole mess.”

“Then you’re an idiot,” Gabi snapped. “The Black Fairy is the most twisted and evil soul that has ever existed. All of the darkness you have ever faced? It came from _her._ You don’t have a hope in hell of standing up to her and you’re all dead if you believe otherwise.”

David paused. “I’ve no choice but to hope you’re wrong,” he said in a small voice.

“No, you do have another choice,” Belle insisted, standing straight and looking David in the eye while simultaneously keeping Gabi from attacking him. He looked away. “You can believe that we’re right, that my son _is_ good, and help us stop the Black Fairy before she reaches Storybrooke.”

“I can see you two are going to need some time to make a decision,” Rumple added as the Charmings gave each other another look. “May I suggest that you make it quick? There is evil on its way to Storybrooke, the likes of which you can only begin to imagine, and we all need to decide what to do about it.”

* * *

 

Her parents had gone to confront Rumplestiltskin, but how much good that would do, Emma didn’t know. She doubted that he would just help them get Hook back, or that either he or Belle would help either of them anymore – her mother’s jaw bore the evidence of that. And there was the small matter of the Black Fairy possibly being on her way to Storybrooke. Emma knew that there was no evidence Gideon was telling the truth; but then, there was no evidence he was lying either.

A force of evil so great that even the Blue Fairy seemed frightened of her, _and_ one that had apparently taken Rumplestiltskin down without a sweat. Emma wandered down Main Street to the library, forcing herself to think rationally instead of barrelling into the situation headfirst, as some might say. Outside the library doors, she made up her mind.

Thankfully, her hunch had been right, and Gideon was at the top of the clock tower. Just like his mother, he was nose-deep in a book and didn’t look up even though Emma knew he had heard her.

“When I first came to this town,” she said conversationally, “that clock didn’t even move. Now look at it; ticking away every _magical_ second since my arrival.”

“Are you here for nostalgia,” Gideon snapped, still not looking up from his book, “or are you here to punch me again?”

“Neither.”

He finally looked up. Emma took a small breath.

“I thought about it, and you’re right. Visions, prophecies, premonitions, whatever – they don’t always come true. You were here for almost a day before we fought on Main Street, and you didn’t come after me,” she admitted, having thought through the events of the last few days as thoroughly as she could. “You didn’t start the fight, I did. And I suspect … if Zelena hadn’t been there, you probably would have beaten me.”

“Maybe,” said Gideon.

“The point is, I realised something. Something I saw the last time we … chatted. The look of someone who needs hope. Henry had it all those years ago when he found me and told me I’m the Saviour. Now you have it.”

Gideon had shut the book, using a finger to mark his page. “Is that your way of saying that you will help me?”

“I will,” she said. “If there is somebody on their way to Storybrooke who intends to kill us all, then yes, I will help you do whatever it takes to stop them. But I want something from you first. A show of good faith.”

“What for?”

“I still have no reason to believe this isn’t some drawn-out con game, and you’re leading me into a trap,” Emma explained, which made Gideon roll his eyes. “No offence, but I’ve learned to expect that from your father, and I don’t know you well enough to believe you’re any different. Not to mention the fact that you _did_ attack my parents which, call me crazy, doesn’t exactly inspire trust. I need a reason to trust you.”

Gideon stood up. He towered over her, but didn’t seem in the least bit threatening. “Alright. What do you want?”

“Give Hook back.”

There was a pause in which the only sound was that of the clock ticking and the cogs grinding. Gideon bit his lip, obviously thinking through his choices, but then reached into his pocket, pulled out the bottle that Hook was in and tossed it to her. Emma caught it. Inside, Hook gave her a little wave, and she sighed in relief. He was okay. Three inches tall, but okay.

“Alright. Now put him back to normal.”

“No.”

“ _No?_ ” Emma repeated.

Gideon nodded. “No. You asked for a show of good faith, and I gave you one. You have your pirate back. Now I want one in return because I have as much reason to trust you as you do me. You tried to kill me twice, and you threatened both of my parents and my sister. So here’s the deal: you help me to stop the Black Fairy, and I’ll return him to normal size.”

“No. Fix him _now_ , or I won’t help you.”

“Then I suggest you get used to carrying your _True Love_ around in your pocket.”

“That’s the deal you want to make?” Emma snapped, feeling the urge to hit something rising again. Gideon nodded, completely unconcerned.

“It is.”

She really wanted to hit something, but settled for rolling her eyes. She should’ve remembered whose son it was she was dealing with. “Fine. What’s your plan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part X: Gideon and Emma complete stage one of the plan to destroy the Black Fairy. Whether it goes well or not is up for debate


	10. Part X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story just got a hell of a lot more convoluted than I ever intended it to be, by the way

“The Sorcerer’s Mansion?” Emma asked with surprise as Gideon’s magic cloud (which was _gold_ , of course) dropped them in the drive of the old building. A light was on inside, but as far as Emma knew the place had been vacant ever since the Apprentice died. “What are we doing here?”

“It’s located at the nexus of the most powerful magic in Storybrooke,” Gideon said by way of an explanation. “I think you know what’s in there. Or rather what we can create in there.”

He opened the door – which wasn’t locked for some reason – and led her into the foyer. “A portal?” Emma guessed. “Those take extreme magic. They don’t just come out of thin air; it’s not like hailing a cab.”

Gideon looked confused for a second – it occurred to her then that he probably didn’t know what a cab was – and then shrugged. “Lucky you have me, then.”

He grinned and strode off down the hallway, Emma running to keep up.

“Only the Saviour can destroy the greatest of Dark Magic,” he continued as he turned left, then right into a large room that was empty except for a random door sitting in the middle between two chaise lounges. “That’s why I need you. I can get us into her fortress and close enough for you to kill her.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a second,” said Emma, grabbing Gideon’s arm. “That’s your plan? You want to fight her on her own turf? Kinda risky, don’t you think?”

Gideon exhaled, waving a hand hopelessly. “We don’t really have a choice. It would be more dangerous to bring her to Storybrooke.”

 _True,_ Emma supposed, nodding gently. Then she had another thought. “Why isn’t your sister here?” she asked, frowning at Gideon.

“For her own good,” he replied. “To keep her safe.”

“Why?”

He bit his lip again, throwing a sideways look at the door. “Some months ago,” he started slowly, still watching the door, “there was an uprising against the Black Fairy. Gabi was one of the instigators. Others – others were killed for their insolence. What I had to do to protect her –” He broke off, clenching his jaw so hard that Emma grimaced. For a second, she thought he might even cry. Instead he just sighed and shook gently. “If the Black Fairy sees my sister, she will kill her. I cannot let that happen.”

“So the two of us will have to do?” said Emma. “Not much of an army.”

“All we have to do now is redirect the portal before she finds it and comes through after us,” Gideon explained. “Then we can go to our families and launch a full-scale attack. I know the lay of the land, how to get in without being seen, and there are people on the other side who would be willing to help us fight her.”

Emma studied him for a second. Her superpower informed her that he was telling the truth – or at least what he thought was the truth. That didn’t necessarily mean she could trust him, but at the moment she didn’t exactly have a lot of options. The Black Fairy had to be stopped, and the sooner they did that, the sooner she could get Hook back to normal.

“Alright. What do we have to do?”

Gideon pointed to the random doorway in the middle of the room. “First we have to redirect the portal.”

“The _door?_ ” Emma exclaimed. Gideon nodded and pulled a table out from behind a lounge. “Can’t we just use the one you used to get here?”

“We are,” he replied, lighting a candle with a flick of his wrist and placing it in the centre of the table next to a wooden bowl. “This one leads right into the Black Fairy’s vault. But portals are one-way doors; we have to reverse the direction so she can’t use it to get here first.”

“So what did you need me for, then?”

Gideon drew a knife out of his coat. Emma started, then realised he was handing it to her. “Blood magic, so she can’t reverse what we’re about to do. It should buy us enough time to convince your family not to kill me.”

“If you don’t want people to kill you, you should learn not to attack them,” Emma snapped.

Gideon’s face remained carefully blank. “Will you just take the knife?” he asked in the tone of one who was keeping themselves under control.

 _You really are desperate,_ Emma realised with a jolt. She took the knife.

“Thank you,” said Gideon. He then took the piece of paper he’d been using as a page marker from his book, which he stored carefully back inside his coat. Emma watched him for a moment longer before she gently pricked the side of her middle finger, where it would hurt less, and let a drop of blood fall into the bowl.

Instantly, the table began to shake.

Emma stepped back. So did Gideon.

“Is it supposed to be doing that?” she asked, staring at the piece of furniture that was now threatening to tear itself to pieces.

“No.”

“ _Why_ is it doing that?”

Even as she asked, the table stilled. Gideon took a tentative step forwards, only to run back as a hole was blown in the door. Emma ducked out of the way of the debris as a spiny, armoured leg shot out of the hole like a spear, scrabbling for whatever was within reach. Gideon jumped out of the way a millisecond before it caught him.

“She’s figured out what I’m doing!” he shouted, throwing up both hands. Golden magic erupted from his palms, engulfing the creature. “It’s one of her guards! Run! I’ll hold it off!”

Emma didn’t waste any time arguing, and ran.

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Emma to discover how easy it was to get lost in such a big house. She couldn’t remember which way she had gone when she fled the room with the portal, and now she had absolutely no idea where she was.

Still, she could hear the clattering of spiny legs on the wooden floor – if she listened closely, it sounded disturbingly like a _spider_ – and knew it was coming for her. Gideon must not have been able to fend it off, she realised morosely.

She sprinted up a flight of stairs and hid behind the railing, listening for the _clip-clip_ below. It was getting closer, so she forced herself to think. She couldn’t let that thing get out of the mansion, which meant that she needed a plan.

Sadly, _plans_ were not exactly her strong suit.

The _clip-clip-clip_ of the creature’s legs continued to grow louder. Emma chanced a look through the railing and somehow managed not to shout in disgust. It was a giant spider, alright, easily the size of a small horse even without its legs, and every bit as ugly as a pony-sized tarantula would look. The monster stopped in the middle of the lobby below Emma, apparently taking stock of its surroundings. A moment later, it reared up. It was making a nest, Emma realised as webs shot out of its body and began to encompass the room.

Then somebody dropped to the floor beside her, and Emma jumped.

“Sorry,” Gideon panted, thoroughly out of breath and bleeding from a nasty-looking gash in his cheek. “That didn’t go so well.”

“Clearly,” said Emma now that the shock had passed. “So how do we kill this thing?”

“Magic won’t work. Its shell makes it impervious.”

“Oh. _Great._ ”

“Have you got a weapon?” he asked, patting his own pockets in search of one. “A sword, knife, anything?”

“Just a gun.”

Gideon studied it curiously. “Might work,” he said after a moment. “You distract it. I’ll sneak up behind and kill it.”

“With what?”

In his breast pocket he finally found what he was looking for – a perfectly ordinary-looking ballpoint pen. Emma stared at him, finally convinced that she’d allowed herself to be fooled by a maniac, only for Gideon to click the pen. It turned into a sword.

“My sister’s a bit of a nutty inventor,” he said as if that explained everything.

Emma wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into.

* * *

 

Beneath the overturned table, dark blood dripped onto the floor, staining the threshold of the portal. White magic arced out of the red blots as darkness seeped out of the door, drawing the light magic closer and closer. Even as the light died, the darkness grew stronger, eating a hole in the veil that had separated the two worlds for far too long.

* * *

 

It was a good thing that spiders didn’t bother her, Emma thought as she carefully followed the monster through the web-spun hallways. She could hear the thing _clip-clip-clipping_ on the hardwood floor. The webs got thicker the further she went. Whatever it was doing, it did not want to be disturbed.

Emma rounded a corner, brushing webs aside to get through. The spider was facing away from her in the room beyond, busy layering a wall with heavy, snow-white strands of silk. The weavers would have a field day collecting it all; once Emma was done with its spinner, of course.

“Hey, Aragog!”

The spider scuttled to a stop at the sound of her voice and turned around; Emma quickly fired three bullets into its head. All three connected and bounced off its shell, making the spider shake.

So much for that.

Emma fired once more to buy time and then ran, eight spiny legs chasing after her. It sounded like hail in the confined space.

Five feet from the door, a dark shadow jumped out at her and Emma flew sideways into the wall. She gasped as pain suddenly shot up her arm; when she drew her hand away, it was covered in blood. The spider leered above her, pincers snapping furiously, and its beady, wet eyes fixed her with the most animalistic scowl she had ever seen. She could hear every hair on its leg rustle where it pinned her to the wall; Emma transferred her gun to her other hand, figuring it was as good an option as any –

“HEY!”

Emma screamed as the spider twisted away from her, its leg digging painfully into her arm as a flash of metal passed dangerously close to her head. A metallic _thwack_ , and the spider’s severed limbs fell to the ground. The thing hissed in pain and awkwardly scuttled away on six legs, leaving behind a trail of gloopy black liquid.

“Are you alright?” asked Gideon, dropping his stained sword and eying Emma’s bad arm with worry.

She nodded, still panting from the shock. “Yeah, it’s just a cut.”

“Here.”

He knelt next to her and tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt. Emma listened for the spider’s scuttling, which had faded away, but there was no knowing when it would be back.

“I thought you’d left me to die there for a second,” she admitted as Gideon tied the makeshift bandage in place. He glanced at her, big brown eyes full of uncertainty – and so _damn_ familiar, and she just couldn’t think where she’d seen it before. Then a _pitter-patter_ of sharp claws on the next floor caught their attention. Emma and Gideon both looked at the ceiling, bits of dust falling from the beams.

“It’s looking for a way out,” said Gideon.

“We can’t let that thing loose on Storybrooke,” Emma insisted.

“Agreed.” He held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Come on.”

* * *

The trail of blood led them upstairs again.

“Watch the webs,” Gideon warned, pointing to the floor. Emma looked down. The shag carpet was covered in interwoven threads like tripwires, which Gideon was carefully walking between. Emma followed the expert, careful to keep her gun at the ready. She was running low on ammo, so if she had to shoot again, she intended to make every bullet count.

Something rattled and clattered to the floor in the room at the end of the hallway.

“It’s in there,” Gideon whispered.

He led the way, the pen-sword glinting in the light. Emma watched the shadows in the next room, trying to figure out where the spider was. Gideon turned to her with a finger held in a shushing pose and then hugged the wall where he could look into the room. Emma did the same thing on the other side.

From what she could see, the spider was trying to hide under the bench of what could have been a classroom science lab. Smashed glass littered the floor where the monster had tossed out the contents of a cupboard in its effort to make a nest.

_But how to chase it out of there?_

Gideon took a tentative step inside, only for a web to shoot out of the cupboard, missing him by an inch.

“Bookshelf,” he murmured.

“What?” Emma asked, but she was cut off as Gideon flicked his wrist and a shelf came crashing to the floor in front of the spider’s nest. Textbooks, beakers and glass bottles flew everywhere, and the spider screeched. Gideon rushed inside, swinging his sword at the dark shadow clambering up the wall in its effort to get away. Emma raced after him and fired two more shots into the spider’s carapace. That had no more effect than last time.

The door slammed shut – later, she would remember Gideon magically sealing it to prevent the spider from escaping. Emma looked around for something, anything that would be more effective than her gun as Gideon tried to swipe the creature down from the wall. She ran to what looked like a pantry and wrenched it open. Inside was a myriad of vials, beakers, glass retorts that contained liquids in every colour of the rainbow, every consistency imaginable. Emma had no idea what any of them did, if anything at all, but it was worth a try. She grabbed three at random and hurled them at the spider. One burst into flames upon impact and knocked the spider to the ground while another hissed like acid. The spider landed with a thud on its back, wriggling like mad. Gideon didn’t give it time to get away, and stabbed it straight through its unprotected belly.

Emma watched, fighting the urge to vomit, as the spider screeched again, struggling to get free. It writhed and squirmed frantically, weakening with each second that passed, until it twitched one last time and folded its remaining legs into itself. Gideon pulled his sword out with a sickening _squelch._

“I hate these things,” he said, watching the spider carefully in case it wasn’t as dead as it looked. “That was good thinking, though.”

“Thanks,” Emma replied. She made for the door; the sooner she was away from the corpse, the better. Once in the hallway, she gulped down the fresh air like a drowning victim until the smell of dead spider was washed from her lungs. She still felt she’d need several long showers to be completely free of it. “I think we need a new plan. If it took two of us just to kill that one –”

“Aye,” said Gideon. “But first we need to seal that doorway before she can send any more of those things.”

Emma agreed with a nod, unable to say much more. She took her gun from him – he must have picked it up when she forgot that she’d thrown it away – and followed him back to the room where the portal was.

There was just one problem, which became apparent as soon as they found the room against amongst the labyrinth of the mansion – the portal was gone.

“What the hell?” Emma asked, stepping over the overturned table to stand in the spot where the door had been only minutes ago. “It was right here!”

“I know,” said Gideon, who looked equally as confused. And worried, if Emma wasn’t much mistaken. “Emma, I think we should go –”

Then the lights flickered. Once, then twice. One of the bulbs burst, glass rained down, and electricity arced from the broken wires like jet-black lightning. Diabolical laughter filled the room as the lights flickered again and two more exploded, and a cold chill went through Emma’s bones. If this had been a movie, she decided, then that moment was when the horror-movie music began.

“You’re not going anywhere,” said a new voice, one that gave Emma the instinctive urge to run. She slowly turned to face the door, where _somebody_ stood, radiating darkness like Emma had never seen before. The woman _reeked_ of black magic; it rippled out of the folds of her jet-black dress and split onto the floor where Emma and Gideon both stood, frozen like statues.

“What are you doing here?” Gideon asked, his voice shaking. Emma spared him a glance. He _knew_ this woman. “You can’t be here!”

“Oh, but I can,” said the newcomer, striding forwards with complete confidence. Gideon took a step back, and Emma finally put the pieces together.

 _This_ was the Black Fairy.

“You brilliant boy,” she said, reaching out to touch Gideon’s bleeding cheek. “It was the final piece of the puzzle. One drop of Saviour’s blood, and I am freed from my prison.”

Emma’s finger twinged painfully, but she couldn’t seem to make herself move. The Black Fairy ignored her, too busy smiling at Gideon, and a moment later there was a clatter on the stairs. The spider reappeared, nowhere near as dead as Emma would have liked, and clumsily attempted to stand despite its three missing legs.

“Oh, dear,” crooned the Black Fairy, turning to the spider with what may have been concern. “Did we hurt our little friend, Gideon? Tut, tut. _So_ disappointing. But no matter. Now _come with me._ ”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Emma declared, suddenly finding her voice. She raised her gun, the barrel pointed straight at the Black Fairy’s chest. Even if she didn’t know what a gun was, Emma figured she would get the message.

But the Black Fairy just laughed. “Really, Saviour? You think _that_ can hurt me.” She flicked her hand at the spider as if to give it an order. “Deal with her. Gideon, _come._ ”

Gideon lurched forwards as the Black Fairy strode out of the room, the spider stepping aside to let them pass. Emma fired, but that did as much good as it ever had; webs shot out of the spider’s body and wrapped around her wrists, twisting until she was forced to drop the gun.

“Gideon!” she shouted at his retreating back, but he didn’t turn around. He kept following her. “Gideon! You bastard!”

She should have listened to her first instincts. She should have known this was a trap.

“Gideon! _Gideon!_ ”

* * *

 

A spider’s cocoon was a surprisingly warm place. Even as the threads enveloped her, steadily turning everything into a field of white, Emma felt the need to fight ebbing from her. It was just so comfortable, so easy to let go –

 _No!_ said a voice. _You need to keep fighting!_

“Why?” she murmured to herself. It was so much easier; she was just so tired of fighting. Why couldn’t the Saviour have a break, just for once?

Slip into sleep, and rest. A nice _long_ rest –

Faces flashed at the forefront of her memory. Names, places, too many and too fast for her to remember properly.

Henry …

Regina …

Snow and David …

_Sleep, now. It will feel so good._

Tallahassee … Neal … something about dancing doughnuts …

_Emma. Emma, wake up! EMMA!_

She swatted weakly at the invader of her dreams. She didn’t want to wake up. It was too warm, too soft. She was safe here; why should she leave?

“EMMA!”

A cold hand slapped her cheek, and Emma jolted awake. For a second, she saw Henry looking down at her, big brown eyes full of concern … but Henry’s voice wasn’t that light, and his hair wasn’t chestnut … or that _long_ , for that matter …

It wasn’t Henry.

“Emma?” Gabi asked again, shaking Emma’s shoulders desperately. “Come on, wake up!”

“What the – oh, God!”

Emma frantically shook herself free of the remaining webs tying her legs together, brushing loose strands off her arms. God, that was disgusting. She _really_ wanted a shower now, or a hot bath, just to wash all that sticky mucus off. She didn’t even want to think about where that had come from.

“Are you alright?” asked Gabi. She had a knife, Emma realised. That must have been why some of the threads were cut. “What happened? Where’s Gideon?”

Emma shoved her away and got to her feet. She’d fallen for one trap. She wasn’t about to fall for another.

“Stay away from me,” she warned Gabi furiously, patting her pockets. Her gun was nowhere to be found; all she had was Hook’s bottle, stored safely in her coat. “Just stay away!”

“Emma!” cried her mom’s voice. Snow and David appeared in the doorway; they shoved webs aside before racing to Emma’s side, and she let them hug her. Behind them were Rumplestiltskin and Belle, who did the same thing to Gabrielle. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“Emma, where’s Gideon?” asked Belle desperately. Emma took a breath and looked from mother to daughter, and clenched her jaw.

“He tricked me,” she spat, deliberately avoiding Belle’s innocent gaze and instead focusing on Gold. He was easier to be angry with. “He told me we were coming here to stop the Black Fairy. Instead he duped me into bringing her to Storybrooke and then left me for dead.”

“ _What?_ ” Belle, Gold, Snow and David all exclaimed together.

“No,” said Gabi, who had gone pale at the mention of the Black Fairy. “You’re wrong; Gideon would _never_ work with her!”

“I’m sorry,” Emma replied, fixing Gabi with a stern gaze. Was she playing it innocent for the sake of her parents, waiting for the opportune moment to strike? She had Belle’s sweetness about her, but Emma knew that didn’t mean Gabi could be trusted. She’d foolishly trusted her brother, after all, and nearly gotten killed for it. “But he is. He’s turned; he’s beyond saving.”

“No!” Belle shouted, and Emma couldn’t bring herself to look the librarian in the eyes. “No, there has to be an explanation!”

“Are you _joking?_ ” Snow exclaimed in reply. “What more explanation do you need?”

“That’s the second time he’s tried to kill me, Belle,” said Emma. And it was – he could have easily killed her on Main Street, even admitted it himself. “I can’t just let that go.”

“My brother is _not_ working for the Black Fairy,” Gabi insisted, stepping in front of her parents. “Mum’s right; there has to be another explanation.”

“Like what?” asked David.

“You were delirious until a few minutes ago!” Gabi said, pointing to the desiccated cocoon. “How can you even be sure what happened?”

“Gabi, I know what I saw,” Emma told her firmly. “I saw the Black Fairy appear in that door and order your brother to go with her. He left me for dead.”

“He came to you for help!” exclaimed Belle.

“Belle, I know you wanna believe the best in him but it is like you said – evil is not born, it is made. And that’s exactly what the Black Fairy did to him.”

At that, Rumplestiltskin stepped up next to his daughter with a scowl that could burn through metal. Emma stood her ground; she wasn’t scared of him.

“I’d be careful with your accusations, Miss Swan,” he growled, making his threat perfectly clear. “Need I remind you that my daughter just saved your life?”

“Because your son tried to kill me,” Emma replied.

“He needs _help_ ,” Gold insisted. “You’re a hero, Miss Swan. That is what heroes are supposed to do.”

“You can’t keep cleaning up his messes, Gold! He needs to take responsibility for his actions!”

Rumplestiltskin huffed. “Like the way your pirate captain took responsibility for killing an innocent man?”

“That was _your_ mess, Gold!” shouted Snow as David put a protective arm around Emma’s shoulders. “If you’d just died in New York, none of this would have happened!”

“Alright, everyone just stop!” shouted Belle. “Fighting is not going to get us anywhere!”

“No!” Emma shouted back. “You two need to open your eyes and see what is really going on here! Now either you help us to stop Gideon, or we’ll have to put you away too!”

“Are you threatening my son?” growled Rumplestiltskin.

“I don’t have a choice,” she said. “He’s tried to kill me twice now. I’m not gonna give him a third chance.”

Rumplestiltskin took a step forwards, one hand stretched out to hold Belle’s. “Alright, _Saviour_ –”

But whatever curses he had prepared for her were knocked aside by a wave of silvery-blue magic that tossed Snow and David into the next room. Emma’s legs gave way beneath her and she fell to the floor. A moment later, Gabi was on top of her. The small girl had apparently wrenched off a table leg, which she planted in the middle of Emma’s chest with surprising strength and held her down.

“Do you know what it was like to grow up with _her_?” Gabi asked, her voice and hands shaking as she stared down at Emma with brown eyes that could have ignited the sun from pure rage. “Do you have _any idea_ what she did to us? How she beat us, kicked us, spat on us, worked us to the point of death and then tossed us over the edge?! There is a whole _realm_ full of children who have been stolen from their parents, and tortured, and used until they are dried up and hopeless and _begging_ for death! You have a chance to save them and yet you have to be _coerced into it? You call yourself a Saviour? You’re PATHETIC!_ ”

Emma kicked upwards, her knee colliding with Gabi’s stomach so the smaller girl stumbled backwards even as Emma jumped to her feet. Her hand came up and struck Gabi across the face the same way she had done to Gideon not even an hour ago. She wasn’t sure why she did it – she was just too angry not to.

Gabi turned aside, stiff as a board. Emma had raised her arm to strike again, but didn’t. She had seen this before.

“What makes you think you scare me?” Gabi asked, just a murmur but it hit Emma like a tonne of bricks all the same. When she looked at Emma again, she was bleeding in the same spot Gideon had been, and the same brown eyes glared at Emma. They really were brother and sister.

“Do you really think that you have anything on _her?_ ” Gabi continued, pointing to the door where Snow and David were trying to fight their way past an invisible shield spell. Emma didn’t think she was talking about Snow. “You know, I spared your life the day I came to Storybrooke. In your car, I was watching you. I know what you did to my parents, what you tried to do to me and my brother before we were even born. I could have killed you. I could have rigged your car to blow the _moment_ you opened the door, but I didn’t. I _chose_ not to, because I held out hope.”

Gabi was crying now, and shaking from anger that Emma could see reaching critical levels.

“I – I hoped that there was something left of the woman Roland knew,” she said, no louder than a whisper now. “That deep down, you were still the same Emma Swan he told us about. The one who fought for good, fought for justice, _helped_ those who asked her for it. Not because she had to be tricked into it, but because it was the right thing to do. But you’re _not_ her. You’re not the Saviour. I don’t know who you are, but you are _not_ Emma Swan.”

And with that, Gabi flicked her wrist upwards in the same theatrical motion Emma had seen Rumplestiltskin perform a hundred times, and disappeared in a cloud of silvery-blue smoke. The shield holding Snow and David collapsed at the same time. They rushed to Emma’s side in an instant.

“Are you okay?” Snow asked while checking over every part of Emma that she could see.

“Yeah, think so,” Emma replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. She looked down at her hands. A tremor rippled through her fingers, and she quickly hid it from her parents. Thankfully, they missed it.

“Come on,” said David. “Let’s go home. We’ll find Blue, she’ll know what to do. Then we can look for Gideon and the Black Fairy.”

Off to the side, Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat. Emma jumped. She’d forgotten that he and Belle were there.

“Let’s just make one thing clear first,” said the old sorcerer, staring daggers at Emma’s father. “If you harm my son, I will do what it takes to stop you.”

Belle shifted closer to her husband even before he’d finished talking, and they all got the message.

“Belle, please, don’t be stupid,” said Snow.

Even Emma knew that was a dumb thing to say, and she would have said so if Belle hadn’t saved her the trouble.

“Excuse me?” the small librarian exclaimed, stepping even closer to her husband. She linked arms with Rumplestiltskin then, as if she hadn’t made her allegiances perfectly clear. “That’s my son you’re threatening! If I have to stop you myself to save him, then so be it!”

 _Huh. Who knew the bookworm had teeth?_ Emma thought.

“We didn’t start this fight,” said Snow, tugging on Emma’s jacket sleeve. “Come on. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

Belle remained still for about half a minute after Snow and David left with Emma, each of them throwing Rumple the coldest looks she had ever seen on their faces. She didn’t miss the fact that all of them avoided her gaze – Emma had not met her eyes once while throwing those horrible accusations at her son.

The problem was, Belle couldn’t convince herself fully that Emma was wrong.

 _I know you want to believe the best in him,_ Emma had said. Belle dropped onto the lounge, wondering if the heroes had been right. That she was blinding herself, insisting on seeing something that wasn’t really there and being a complete fool for believing that there had to be another explanation.

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

“Are they right?” she murmured as Rumple sat beside her and reached for her hand. “Have we lost him?”

“Don’t listen to them,” Rumple growled. “They only see the world in black and white. We can still bring him back to us.”

“How?” she asked, desperate for an answer. Her instincts were screaming that he was wrong, that the heroes were right to mistrust their boy. Had it really all just been a ploy, a game to get Emma to trust him just so that he could turn around and betray her?

Belle dropped her head into her hands. The sound of Gabi’s voice, desperate and pleading for Emma to understand, played over in Belle’s mind and she started to cry. Their children had come here for help, and Belle had only failed them again. She hadn’t been able to protect them from Blue, hadn’t been able to protect them from the Black Fairy, and now she couldn’t even protect her boy from himself.

“He came to find us, remember?” Rumple whispered gently, squeezing her hand to jolt her out of her self-deprecating thoughts. “There is still light in him, I know it. If Gabrielle could stay good despite everything the Black Fairy did, then there is no reason why Gideon couldn’t. We’re his parents. Whatever damage _she_ did to him, we can fix it. I promise. We will bring him back.”

Belle lifted her head, meeting Rumple’s warm brown eyes. Just like their son’s. “You really believe that?”

“Of course I do. If you could reach me, time and time again, in spite of all those years I spent revelling in the darkness, then you can reach our boy. We both can, together.”

“But Emma’s the Saviour,” said Belle, swallowing hard. “Wouldn’t she know if somebody could be saved?”

“Miss Swan is no expert on redemption, no matter what her title,” Rumple replied with the faintest hint of a growl. “She may want to believe that Gideon can’t be saved, but all that means is that he doesn’t _want_ to be. Not right now, at least. We can find out why, and how to change his mind, I have no doubt that he can be. You and I can do it, and so can our girl. We don’t need _their_ help.” He said that last part with a deadly glare at the door the Charmings had just disappeared through.

“No. We don’t,” Belle agreed, squeezing his hand in return. She needed to stop thinking that Snow and Emma gave a damn about her, really. They’d made their allegiances clear when they tried to kill her children. Actually, they’d made it clear long ago – when they had been ready to sacrifice a powerless Rumple for an Emma who had done exactly what Gideon was doing now. If anybody could have understood, it would have been Emma, but it was clear that Belle had been wrong to think that the heroes really cared about Rumple, or those he called family.

Rumple smiled crookedly, perhaps sensing what she was thinking, and pulled her to him, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Maybe she was a fool, but she had been proven right once before. Despite everything, she had been right about her husband. She could be right about Gideon too, no matter what the so-called heroes believed.

“We should find Gabi,” Rumple murmured after an age. “I imagine she could do with a dose of reassurance too.”

Belle nodded. “Yes, we should,” she said, remembering the pain on her little girl’s face as the heroes all but signed Gideon’s death warrant. There was no way to know what Gabi might do, especially if the Black Fairy really was in Storybrooke like Emma claimed.

The risks be damned, Belle refused to let that monster hurt her children for another second.

* * *

 

On top of the library roof, Gideon tried to make himself as small as possible behind an air vent while the Black Fairy oversaw her new world. He flexed his fingers repeatedly just to check that he still could.

 _I didn’t want to do that,_ he thought, still feeling the lingering effects of whatever invisible chain that had dragged him away from the Sorcerer’s Mansion. _Why did I do that?_

“I must thank you, Gideon,” said the Black Fairy, turning to face him with that sickening smile he now knew was not the look of a real mother. Belle had never looked at him like that. “For freeing me. Such a good boy. Mummy’s little helper.”

“You are not my mother,” Gideon spat. That title belonged to his real mother now; maybe Damhsa could make him do her bidding, but she couldn’t take that away from him.

Still, anger flashed across the Black Fairy’s face, raw rage that Gideon would once have been frightened of. No longer. She couldn’t hurt Gabi here, not with their parents to protect her.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” she murmured with a hint of a growl. “Now, we are going to wreak havoc on this little town.”

“I won’t help you.”

“Oh, you won’t have a choice,” she said almost gleefully, leaning down much too close to him. He found that he couldn’t pull away. “Not while I have _this!_ ”

Black smoke swirled around her hand. When the cloud cleared, a white crystal marked with pulsating streaks of red appeared in her palm. His heart.

 

_“You understand that I cannot allow this little act of defiance to pass unpunished,” Damhsa declared as she paced her chambers, simmering with anger. Gideon stayed in the doorway, out of the line of fire. “I have to make an example of the instigators.”_

_“You killed Roland.”_

_“He was just one. There were others. Julian, Diane … Gabrielle …”_

_“Please,” Gideon begged. “Please don’t hurt her.”_

_“I don’t see that I have a choice. Defiance has a bad habit of spreading, and I cannot allow that.”_

_“I can keep her in line! It won’t happen again! Please, just don’t hurt my sister!”_

_Damhsa turned to him with that awful smile plastered on her face. “Gideon, Gideon. My dear boy. I wish I could believe that, but Gabrielle has had too many chances already. The little mouse is too much like her mother. Her type is simply too stubborn to be controlled and where there is one, others will follow. An example must be made of her.”_

_“Please! I promise that I can control her!”_

_“I wish I could believe that. But what can you offer me as a guarantee that she won’t control you instead? After all, your little speech was most inspiring!” She snarled, showing teeth. “That’s what I thought.”_

_“Wait,” Gideon said as she turned to leave. He raised a hand to his chest, feeling for the frantic thump-thump of his heart. “There is something I can offer.”_

“You foolish boy,” the Black Fairy said, holding Gideon’s heart up for him to see. “Didn’t you realise that you can do so much more with a heart than just kill? When you hold a heart, you control it. You can influence a person’s thoughts … their desires … even plant ideas in their head.”

She grinned broadly, almost laughing.

“That’s right. I _led_ you to the Saviour, and to the portal. I suppose I should thank Gabrielle for staging that little uprising after all. Had she not been so recklessly brave, so … foolishly heroic, like that stupid little woman who fell for the Dark One … and you hadn’t been so _desperate_ to save her, I may never have got my hands on this. I may never have seen the light of day again.” Then she actually did laugh, but at least she stepped away from him to do so. “You’re just like your father, Gideon. Weak. Desperate for love. A _coward._ ”

“I,” Gideon growled even as his whole body shook with rage, “am _not_ a coward.”

“Of course you are. And you know it.” The Black Fairy scowled at him, shaking her head with displeasure. “You were supposed to be different, Gideon! You were a gift – my loyal son!”

“Gift?” he spat, raising his head to look her in the eye. “You stole me out of my mother’s arms!”

“She abandoned you!” the Black Fairy screamed. “ _I’m_ the one who took you in, gave you a home, taught you, fed you, shared with you everything I had! But you listened to that stupid girl and became nothing but a bitter disappointment. Well, now you’ll never disappoint me again.”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Gideon tentatively got to his feet, even though it hurt to do so. “No. You can take my heart but you cannot take my soul. I will fight you. I will fight you with every fibre of my being until my dying breath became I am my real mother’s son, and I will never be the monster you want me to be.”

The Black Fairy smiled and shook her head again. “Gideon, Gideon, Gideon. How many times do I have to tell you? You are _not_ a hero.”

He clenched his jaw. “That’s not for you to decide.”

Fury flashed across her face again, and this time she did not restrain herself. She struck him across the face and he fell to the ground, clutching his chest as pain gripped the place where his heart should have been.

She knelt next to him, her fingers wrapping tighter and tighter around his heart, squeezing until Gideon could barely breathe. “We shall see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part XI: Gabi finds a way to talk to her brother and Belle figures out what’s really happened to Gideon
> 
> Also: in light of the finale, and the fact that Emilie is now confirmed not to be returning as a series regular, I thought I’d assure you that I’m not leaving. I’ve got this story to finish up, plus 'The Grimm Affair' and my Edited Universe series, and an untitled future fic that’ll probably take place 10/11 years after ‘Intervention’, because I really feel the need to write a Rumbelle family tale right now! So I’ll still be around for a while, and I’m gonna keep writing for as long as anybody wants to read it. Thanks again guys for everything, all of your support, this has been so amazing!


	11. Part XI

In less than half an hour, the Nolans’ loft had transformed from a home into a war room. Regina stood awkwardly off to the side, feeling entirely off-kilter and not sure why, while David and the Blue Fairy poured over a map of Storybrooke marked with pulsating orange lights. Blue was trying some spell or another to track the Black Fairy, Snow was feeding baby Neal, and Emma sat at the table while her father and Blue did all the work. Hook was in his bottle, which was being used as a paperweight on the south-east corner of the map, and Regina had to hold back a snort of approval. That was probably the most useful the pirate had ever been.

“She’s somewhere in the north-west quadrant, in the woods near the toll bridge,” Blue finally announced after ten minutes of muttering and blowing orange sparks from the tip of her wand. “If we move quickly, we may be able to head her off.”

“What is she waiting for?” asked David, ever the military planner. “What is she after?”

“What she has always wanted,” answered Blue, looking solemn. “Unrivalled power.”

“The Saviour,” murmured Snow.

Blue nodded. “If she can gain Emma’s powers through Gideon, there will be no stopping her. She will be weakened for some time as she adjusts to this world, but even that will not stop her for long. We have to take advantage of this window of opportunity while we still can.”

Regina pinched the bridge of her nose, the effort of listening giving her a blistering headache. She was still reeling from the morning. Not once had she ever seen Belle so angry, so hopeless and desperate; not even when the little bookworm had been imprisoned in a tower, or when Zelena had held Rumple’s knife. Not once. And that didn’t even begin to cover how much Robin’s words had thrown her.

 _He thought I sold them out._ Regina bit her little finger as that thought sunk in. Had she really betrayed his trust so much that he would believe that so readily?

The sound of David’s voice dragged her back to reality.

“Right,” he said. “So what kind of firepower are we looking at here?”

 “She is more powerful than any sorcerer you have faced before,” said Blue. “Even the Dark One could not stand up to her.”

“Aren’t we forgetting something here?” Regina announced, suddenly feeling the need to speak up. All eyes turned on her; Emma looked as though she’d completely forgotten Regina was there.

It was hard, sometimes, to believe that this gloomy woman was the same person who had marched into Storybrooke three years ago and turned Regina’s life completely upside down. _That_ Emma Swan would have had much more to do than to just sit at a table staring at a glass bottle. Not once had Regina ever thought she’d miss her. Now all she wanted to do was shake Snow’s daughter until the fire-breathing bail bondsperson – _that_ Emma Swan – returned.

 “Gideon is Rumple and Belle’s _son,_ ” Regina continued with her train of thought, ignoring the way Blue’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the old sorcerer. “If anyone could get through to him, they could. Why aren’t they here?”

“Because they will not be willing to do what is ultimately necessary to end this threat,” snapped Blue, giving Regina the look of a mother hen speaking to somebody she thought was an utter idiot. “The Dark One has made his choice, and if his wife continues to stand by his side, then so has she.”

“We have to protect the town, Regina,” said David stoically. “We can’t let the Black Fairy try to get Emma’s powers again.”

“Yes, but –”

“The decision has been made, Madam Mayor,” said Blue, now glowering with undisguised irritation. “Need I remind you whose side you’re on?”

Regina was silent. One of the orange dots pinged, attracting everybody’s attention, and Blue started work on another locator spell. While the others were distracted, Regina quietly slipped out of the door.

_You’re right, Blue. I’ve forgotten whose side I’m on._

_Mine._

* * *

 

They finally found Gabi in the cellar of the house, rummaging through Rumplestiltskin’s collection of magical knickknacks. Exactly what she was after, Rumplestiltskin wasn’t sure – and to be honest, he wasn’t sure Gabi knew either – but he already knew there was nothing there of use. The Black Fairy wasn’t some common sorcerer, and though he’d never had the misfortune of running across her before, he knew the stories.

They had a small window of opportunity. It would take a short while for her to adjust to magic in this land, and she would be weakened until then. Whether that would be enough to bring her down, Rumplestiltskin didn’t know, but at the very least it would buy them time to try and _talk_ to Gideon.

“I’m just going to collect a few things from the shop,” Rumplestiltskin murmured to Belle. She was crouching awkwardly next to a bookcase, her hand partially stretched out for their daughter. Gabi had finally given up the search a few minutes ago and curled up in a corner with her knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped protectively around her. Rumplestiltskin tried to ignore how she rhythmically bumped her head against the wall, the same calming mechanism he’d employed as a very small, sad boy, and squeezed Belle’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure her. He knew his wife badly wanted to hold their daughter and shield her from the world, but he suspected Gabi wouldn’t take that well.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he whispered to his wife, pecking her cheek before climbing the stairs, forcing himself to remain calm.

Whether Gideon had really turned to the Black Fairy’s side, or there was something else going on, Rumplestiltskin was not going to let the Charmings hurt his boy. There _had_ to be another way. If he could just _talk_ to his son –

“Hello, Rumple.”

He froze in his tracks. A woman stood in his kitchen, grinning from ear-to-ear in the most obviously fake manner Rumplestiltskin had ever seen. Power that tasted of nightshade berries radiated from her very being; even if she had not been dressed in a floor-length silvery black gown and worn a thorny crown on her head, it would have taken a right idiot not to recognise the Queen of Dark Magic.

“How did you get in here?” Rumplestiltskin babbled before he could stop himself. The first thing he’d done after returning from the Land of Untold Stories with his powers restored was to ensure that all of the magical protections he’d placed over the house, including a blood lock, were still in place. There was no way she should have been able to enter.

Yet she had. Even _Blue_ couldn’t do that.

“My, my, how rude,” giggled Damhsa a’Deireadh. “Is that how you greet all of your friendly visitors?”

“Just the ones who threaten my wife and steal my children,” Rumplestiltskin replied. “Where’s my son?”

“I’m here, Father.”

Rumplestiltskin turned again. Gideon stood in the living room, stiff and unmoving, staring at his feet.

“Gideon,” he breathed, pleading for his son to look at him. When Gideon didn’t move, he pressed on regardless. “Why are you doing this? Why are you helping her?”

“Because he wants to, of course.” Damhsa grinned again, and the sight gave him goosebumps. In three hundred years, Rumplestiltskin had seen evil in many forms. There were monsters, and then there were _monsters._ The Black Fairy was a _monster._ “Such a good boy. I suppose I owe you an apology for how we last met. It was necessary, given that my original intentions failed.”

“Oh, did they?” Rumplestiltskin resisted the urge to rub the back of his head, which prickled with the memory of the nice concussion he’d sustained just three days earlier. Whatever her original intentions were, he certainly didn’t care to find out.

“Unfortunately,” she said. “Rather more than you know. I’ve been looking forward to this meeting for a _very_ long time, and even a delay of a few months –” She broke off, a far-off look in her eyes. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now. My prison can’t hold me anymore. Now things can be the way they were always meant to be.”

“And what’s that?”

She smiled. “Why do you think I wanted to come to Storybrooke? To seek out the Dark One, of course! We are kindred spirits after all.”

“You came here for _me_?” Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes and snorted. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint. I’m not interested.”

It could have been his imagination, but he swore that _something_ flashed in the Black Fairy’s brown eyes. “Rheul Ghorm really never told you, did she?”

“Gideon?”

Belle’s voice coming from the cellar entrance distracted Rumplestiltskin. His wife had come up the stairs, no doubt attracted by the noise, and stared, pale-faced, at their still unmoving son. Gabi was right behind her, equally as pale as she faced her worst nightmare come true.

“Gabrielle!” Damhsa exclaimed, chucking aside the teacup she had been disinterestedly inspecting, and stepped forwards. “How lovely to see you well, my dear!”

Rumplestiltskin instinctively stepped in her way; this fiend had done enough to his little girl.

“Gideon,” Belle repeated, completely ignoring Damhsa. “You don’t have to do this. No matter what she’s made you do, you can still come home with us.”

“Oh, he’s not going anywhere, dear,” replied the Black Fairy.

Rumplestiltskin felt a crackle behind his ear and ducked a millisecond before a bolt of silver-blue magic burst from Gabi’s palm. The spell ricocheted off the fairy’s hastily conjured shield and hit the refrigerator.

“I would have thought you’d learnt your lesson last time, Gabrielle,” said Damhsa, sneering at what remained of the refrigerator door. Under other circumstances, Rumplestiltskin would have complimented his daughter and taught her to refine her power better. “Take my advice, dear; don’t try that again.”

“Don’t touch her,” Rumplestiltskin warned.

Damhsa gave Gabi one last glance, then turned on him. “Oh, worry not. I won’t force you to join with me. I know once the darkness comes, you’ll change your mind. In the meantime –” she eyed Belle with a carefully blank look and grinned – “I have a score to settle. Come, Gideon.”

“Gideon,” Belle called to their son as Damhsa left. “Please. Don’t.”

He still wouldn’t look up. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

There was nothing Rumplestiltskin could do as their boy disappeared in golden smoke, leaving only the scent of oranges behind. He frowned, staring at the spot where Gideon had disappeared.

_Mother? What happened to ‘Mum’?_

“Gabi,” he said, a thought brewing in the part of his brain that was still working. “She still doesn’t know about your dreamworlds, does she?”

* * *

 

The lonely building was located a fair distance from the centre of Storybrooke, set apart from the rest of the town. Animals ran around inside the shed, making _cluck-cluck_ noises; Gideon wondered if they were like the chickens from his mother’s book. The place did look like the picture of the farmhouse from chapter ten, though he’d never realised it could smell so much. It was a good, earthy smell, though; not metallic and bitter like the mines. Damhsa refused to say what they were doing there, and Gideon didn’t press the matter. She was ignoring him. He preferred it that way.

His father had looked so angry, he thought as Damhsa strode up the stony pathway. Gideon remained behind, commanded to hide around the back of the chicken shed where he couldn’t be seen. For once, he didn’t bother to fight it. Hiding was all he wanted to do anyway.

 _Papa. Please help me,_ he would have yelled, screamed, whispered – anything at all – if Damhsa had let him. But all he’d been able to do was stand there. He’d not even been able to meet his father’s eyes, too terrified of the shock and anger that had awaited him there. He’d just stood there like a coward, staring at his own feet. Then his mother had called for him so desperately – and he’d had to snap at her, he’d not had a choice – and Gabi –

Gabi.

Tears prickled in his eyes. What she must think of him now.

_I swear I didn’t betray you, Gabi._

Gideon tried once again to call to her, and hid a cry as the pain gripped his chest where his heart should have been. Damhsa couldn’t possibly know about the connection between them, but whatever she had done that stopped him from telling his father what had happened also seemed to stop him from calling for his twin sister.

_Come, Gideon._

As if pulled along by a chain, he rose from his cramped position on the cold ground. His feet began to move forwards of their own accord. It hurt less if he just went with it – at least she hadn’t ordered him to teleport straight there –

“Gideon.”

He jumped. Rumplestiltskin had appeared in the forest right where Gideon had been sitting just a second ago.

“Father?” he exclaimed, fighting the overwhelming urge to keep walking. Even just a few seconds ... “What are you doing here?”

 _Papa!_ he begged inside, barely even able to think the word. _Please help me!_

Rather than answer, his father raised his hand, and Gideon collapsed on the forest floor.

* * *

It was _an_ idea. The best one that they had. One way or another they had to find out what was _really_ going on – because regardless of what Snow might think, Belle refused to believe that Gideon was beyond saving – and there was only one way to do that without the Black Fairy interfering.

Gabi caught her up on what the dreamworld Rumple had referenced was on the way to the pawnshop. In spite of herself, Belle beamed with pride at the way her twins had been able to defy the Black Fairy’s will for almost three decades in that manner. At the same time, it was terrifying to think of what the two of them were capable of, if they could build entire worlds inside their dreams. Then again, she’d seen Emma perform some impressive magic long before she was the Dark One, and the twins were cut from the same mould. And there were two of them.

But it also meant that if there was anyone in the world that Gideon would listen to, it had to be his sister. They just needed the opportunity to do that.

“So explain this to me again, because it wasn’t too clear over the phone,” said Robin, who had beaten them to the pawnshop and found the satchel of poppy dust that Rumple kept within easy reach beneath the counter next to a ready supply of squid ink. “You two can speak in your minds, and enter each other’s dreams?”

“I don’t really understand how it works,” said Gabi while she poured out a small dose of the reddish brown dust. “We just sort of figured it out when we were eleven, and _she_ never seemed to know about it.”

She grimaced when forced to mention the Black Fairy, and it didn’t escape Belle’s notice how Gabi only ever referred to her as ‘she’. Once again Belle fought the urge to wrap her daughter in a blanket and keep her there until her parents had taken care of the Black Fairy. At least having a plan of some sort had returned the light to her little girl’s eyes – Belle had seen that darkness and hopelessness in Rumple’s eyes one too many times before, and it had never ended well.

“But wouldn’t you _both_ have to be asleep?” asked Robin. “Or can you somehow pull the other one into the dream while you’re there?”

“No, they both have to be asleep. Rumple’s taking care of that right now,” Belle explained, glancing at the clock. That was the risky part of the plan – Rumple needed to get close enough to their son to knock him out for a few hours. Belle just prayed he wouldn’t have to get into a fight with the Black Fairy to do it.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” she asked her daughter. She didn’t want to press Gabi into anything she wasn’t ready for, and Gabi was staring at her handful of dust like she was ready to drop it and run. Belle bit her lip as she realised why her daughter was hesitating. “You’re worried he really did choose her, aren’t you?”

Gabi didn’t answer. Belle reached out gently for her elbow, giving it a squeeze when her daughter didn’t pull away from her touch as she had earlier.

“Hey. I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up, no matter what happens.”

“Me, too,” Robin added.

Gabi glanced up shyly. Belle didn’t have to wonder if anybody save her brother had ever said something like that before.

“I think –” Gabi murmured after an age. She bit her lip and then extended the bag of dust to Belle. “I think you might be able to come.”

“Into your dream? How’s that possible?”

Gabi shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

Belle took the bag of dust and bounced it gently in her hand, watching her daughter. Did Gabi want her to come because she thought they’d have better luck getting through to Gideon together? Or did she just want her mother to be there?

Then the bell to the shop jingled.

Belle huffed in annoyance at the sight of who had just entered. “The sign says ‘Closed’, you know,” she snapped at Snow and Emma. “Get out.”

“Rumplestiltskin had the Black Fairy’s wand after we used it to trap Pan’s shadow,” said Emma while Snow started to look around, messing up all of Belle’s careful organising. “Do you know where it is?”

“Not a clue. And we’re still closed.”

“Belle –”

“You heard her, Snow!” Robin barked back. “Get out!”

Snow dropped the box she had been looking through back onto the counter, and Belle fought the urge to yell at her further. “Whatever. Just know that we’re going after the Black Fairy, and we will destroy her. Along with anybody who gets in our way.”

Belle may have done something rash just then – like slapping Snow on the other cheek, if only to make her _stop talking!_ – but was saved the trouble by the mother and daughter simultaneously collapsing onto the floor of their own accord. Well, not quite, as Belle realised when she turned to see that Gabi’s palm was now void of dust. She stood over Emma and gave the sleeping Saviour a gentle nudge with her foot.

“She talks a lot, doesn’t she?” Gabi mused, eyeing Snow with thinly veiled contempt.

“Too much, some might say,” Belle replied. She poured out a handful of dust for herself, and then gave the remainder to her daughter. “Come on. Let’s find your brother.”

* * *

 

Belle blinked as her eyes adjusted to the pale light of the dream. Lifting her hands, she flexed her fingers experimentally. Moving was slow and sluggish, like trudging through water, but otherwise the dreamworld felt absurdly real. She couldn’t believe that Gabi had actually _made_ this place.

She was in a small hut with the windows open and a cool breeze blowing through. An evergreen forest filled the landscape outside, backed by snow-capped blue mountains. There was a fire burning in the hearth – logs, but it smelt like a coal fire – and a rocking chair creaked in the corner next to a bookshelf. Belle frowned.

_I know this place._

She walked over to the bookshelf. None of the volumes had titles and they were all the same shade of dark green. When she pulled one out at random, she saw that the pages were covered in sketches – architectural drawings and half-finished diagrams of bizarre mechanical contraptions with equations and doodles dotted around the edges.

“This is the inventor’s house,” Belle said out loud, gasping in shock. She knew that chapter of _Her Handsome Hero_ almost off by heart as the jovial, if somewhat eccentric, inventor had always been her mother’s favourite character. Gabi’s dreamworld was literally Belle’s favourite story come to life.

“The who?” said a voice behind her. Belle turned and groaned. Snow and Emma were in the corner, confusion etched on both of their faces. “Where the hell are we?” asked Emma.

“This is a dreamworld,” Belle explained. Gabi’s spell must not have been specific enough, and swept them up into the dream as well. “It’s the only place I can talk to my son without the Black Fairy interfering.”

 _Or you,_ she added quietly to herself.

Snow stared at her as if she’d just grown an extra head. “O-kay. Why are we here?”

“You’re here so you don’t do something stupid like go after the Black Fairy and get my brother killed,” said Gabi, who had just entered from another room with a satchel slung over her shoulder. “Don’t touch anything,” she snapped at Emma before the sheriff could pick up what might have been an hourglass if not for the four golden spheres circling it on a bronze ring. “I don’t know what half the stuff in this place does.”

“You _kidnapped_ us?” Emma demanded, rounding on Gabi. Belle shot Snow a warning look in case she got any ideas about becoming involved. “The Black Fairy is in Storybrooke, and you want to waste time loitering in some dream of a junk shop?”

Gabi nodded. “Yep. Pretty much. Now if you’ll excuse me –”

“No, we don’t have time for this!” Emma demanded, tugging the open door shut and blocking Gabi’s way. “We need to be finding a way to stop the Black Fairy!”

“Find a way to get your pirate back, you mean,” Gabi snapped. “I’m not blind, Emma. You don’t care about helping me or saving Storybrooke. You just want your fiancée out of his bottle.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at that news – when had Emma and Hook gotten engaged? For that matter, how did Gabi know about it?

Emma looked indignant. “ _I’m_ the Saviour. _I’m_ the one who’s destined to defeat the Black Fairy!”

“Really?” Gabi shoved her out of the way, but didn’t leave the hut. Instead she walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and took out a sword hilt that looked identical to the one Emma had broken only yesterday. When Belle looked closer, she realised that it was the same sword. Obviously, Gabi could conjure whatever she wanted in her dream.

“Do you know what this is?” Gabi continued, holding up what remained of the sword for Emma to see. Emma just shrugged.

“I don’t know; Blue gave it to me.”

“It’s the Saviour’s Blade,” said Gabi. “The Black Fairy knew all about it; she’s been searching for it for centuries. In the hands of the real Saviour, it’s one of the only weapons that can kill her. Rheul Ghorm forged it hundreds of years ago. It’s pure magic, nearly indestructible, and yet when _you_ wield it, it breaks.”

She thrust the broken sword hilt at Emma, who dropped it. Whether that was caused by the shock of the movement or what Gabi had just said, Belle neither knew nor cared. As it was, Emma – for once – had been rendered speechless.

“I guess Roland was wrong after all.” Gabi sighed heavily. “Look, just stay here, alright? Mum and I came here to find my brother, and that’s what I intend to do. So just stay here, and don’t touch anything. And watch out for spiders.”

“Gabi,” Emma murmured. “I know he’s your brother. But that doesn’t mean you know him. How can you be so sure that Gideon really hasn’t turned?”

Gabi’s jaw hardened. “Because he’s all I’ve got,” she answered in not much more than a whisper. “It’s not something _you_ would understand.”

With that, she threw the door open and marched into the Echoless Forest. Emma didn’t move as Belle made to follow.

“Belle, wait!” Snow called. Belle didn’t stop though she heard the other woman’s running feet on the floorboards, and Snow pulled her back by the elbow into the doorway. Belle wrenched herself free. She had nothing to say. Well, nothing _polite._

“We need to get back right now!” she demanded, and Belle tried not to roll her eyes. “We’re asleep in the shop? We’re sitting ducks!”

“No, we’re not. Robin’s there to make sure nothing happens, and he can call Rumple in a heartbeat if something does,” Belle explained. “Excuse me.”

“Belle, this is a waste of time!” Snow shouted after her. “When are you going to realise that not everybody wants to be saved?”

“When you realise that I am never going to stop fighting for _my_ family!” Belle shouted back, rounding on Snow once again. “When is this going to stop, Snow!? When are we going to stop fighting each other and realise that the Black Fairy is a threat to all of us – to you and me and Rumple _and_ a town full of innocent people! If you were half the hero you think you are, you’d be doing something about that instead of vilifying my husband for something that isn’t his fault.”

Belle grabbed the door and slammed it shut before Snow could react. It wouldn’t hold them there for very long, but hopefully it would give her and Gabi enough of a head start.

Or at least a few minutes in which she wouldn’t have to endure the sound of Snow’s self-righteousness.

* * *

 

Gabi knew the path to the lake well. This was her favourite world to build and explore, even when she wasn’t with her brother. She’d filled the sketchbooks with hundreds of her own designs – plans to improve ventilation in the lower sections of the mines, some traps she’d made for the failed revolt, even just fun little knickknacks she wanted to build when this was all over. In the past seventeen years, she and Gideon had made the trek to the lake hundreds of times, laughing and revelling in the little freedom they had, the one thing _she_ had never been able to take away from them.

She kicked a stone off the path and watched it hit a tree. One way or another, she was going to get her brother back.

“Where are we going?” asked Belle, who hurried to catch up. Gabi had heard the shouting in the cabin, but she’d had enough of that woman for one day.

Roland told Diane that the Saviour was in Storybrooke. The story had made her out to be a great hero who broke the curses of the Evil Queen and the Wicked Witch and returned the happy endings. But _that_ woman barely seemed able to find her own shoes, let alone defeat an evil witch. Had he meant a different Emma Swan, and Gabi found the wrong one?

Somehow, sadly, she doubted it.

“To the lake,” she explained to the woman whom she was still getting used to calling her mother. Belle had been barely visible in the one picture Gabi had, so she’d never really known what her mother looked like. It was strange, really; not at all how Gabi had imagined having parents would feel.

Walking with her mother through the forest, it hit Gabi just how little she actually knew the woman. She’d always had a picture in her head of what it would be like to see her mother, to talk to her, but now that she had the opportunity … well, she realised that she’d never really known what to expect.

“Gideon always used to meet me there,” Gabi explained as they continued to walk through the Echoless Forest, which certainly lived up to its name. “The cabin was sort of my place, and we’d meet up at the lake whenever we came here.”

“The lake,” Belle murmured, sounding as if she was a world away. “That’s where Gideon lived in the book.”

She stared, wide-eyed, at the scenery around them as the banks of the lake came into view, gentle waves lapping on the shoreline and damp grass bending in the breeze. “Is that why you chose this place?”

“I don’t know,” Gabi replied. Honestly, it had just been the first one she’d thought of. “I just wanna find my brother.”

“I think you already have.”

Gabi whirled around at the sound of her brother’s voice. Gideon stood at the edge of the lake, hands fidgeting in that way he did when he wasn’t sure what to do. So Gabi saved him the trouble, and ran to hug him, clutching her brother close and wishing she’d never have to let go.

“I’m sorry, Gabi,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”

She felt another hand on her back; Belle had come up to join them. Gabi stepped aside to let her in, and Gideon looked close to tears as he enveloped their mother in his long arms. “Mama.”

“Gideon,” Belle replied, stepping back to look at him. “What happened? Why are you doing this?”

“What did she do to you?” Gabi added. There had to be another side to the story, something Emma Swan didn’t know; there was no way he would have sided with the Black Fairy by choice – no way –

Gideon shut his eyes, looking pained. “Gabi, I swear I didn’t –”

“So this is how you two have been defying me all this time.”

All three of them jumped. Gabi felt Gideon grip her arm tightly as the Black Fairy laughed, twirling her hands together as she strode the length of the shore. Belle moved in front of them.

“It seems I owe Roland an apology,” Damhsa said with mock regret, something Gabi had come to know well in twenty-eight years. “This is quite impressive. One of your creations, I presume, Gabrielle?”

“How did you get here?” Gabi demanded. She’d let her mother, Emma Swan and Snow White in – exactly how, she wasn’t quite sure – but how had the Black Fairy gotten into her dream? “You can’t be here. You can’t be –”

Damhsa held up a hand. “Thank you, Gideon. You can go now.”

_No!_

Gabi held her brother’s arm tighter. He’d shut his eyes and stiffened like a support beam, like the action physically hurt him, and gripped her hand so hard his nails dug into her skin but continued to pull away regardless –

“Gideon,” said Belle, turning around. “Don’t. You don’t have to do what she says.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he replied without opening his eyes. And then he vanished, and Gabi’s hand clamped shut on the air where his arm had been just a second ago; ripped from the dream as if he had never been there in the first place.

Belle recovered first and rounded on Damhsa. “What did you do to him?!” The fairy looked straight through her as if she wasn’t even there, brown eyes fixated on Gabi instead.

“You look hungry, Gabrielle,” Damhsa stated conversationally. She waved a hand and a little fire appeared, complete with a cooking plate and three eggs made in the same way that Eilwen used to do for the young children who got hurt in the mines. Eggs in a basket, she’d called it. “You still like the yolk runny, don’t you?”

“Where’s Gid?” Gabi demanded, ignoring the bribe.

“Oh, don’t worry; I haven’t hurt him,” said Damhsa. She selected one of the eggs and bit into it. “Mmm. Not bad. I just sent him away so that I could talk to my favourite little girl in private.”

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Belle warned. Damhsa just rolled her eyes and continued to ignore her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat something, dear? You do look positively famished.”

“You don’t care about me,” Gabi replied. “You never cared about me. The only reason you kept me alive was to hurt Gideon.”

Damhsa chewed on her egg, contemplating Gabi thoughtfully. “Well, look at how you will, my dear,” she answered after a pause. “But you deserve to know the truth. Everything I’ve ever done, Gabrielle; everything I put you through – it was all for you and your brother. _I_ made you strong.”

“Strong?” Gabi snorted. “That’s what you call that? You stole us from our parents!”

“You mean this woman?” Damhsa pointed to Belle and laughed. “Oh, believe me, dear. I did you a favour. She would have abandoned you in a heartbeat had I not intervened.”

“Gabi, don’t listen to her,” said Belle.

“Your _mother_ isn’t the saintly soul she makes herself out to be,” the Black Fairy continued as if Belle hadn’t said anything. “You cannot trust her. She has only ever been with your father for his power. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she let him impregnate her on purpose, to keep them chained together through a child.”

“That is not true!” Belle seized the Black Fairy’s arm, shoved her back and stood between her and Gabi. “You don’t understand love at all. You can’t.”

“I understand it all too well, dear.” Damhsa chuckled. “What was it that you told your darling Rumple? That your child would be better off trapped under a sleeping curse than being poisoned by their father?”

Belle went unnervingly stiff, and Damhsa chuckled again.

“Don’t deny it, dear. You know very well why you stay with him, and it isn’t because you love him. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, Gabrielle, but your _mother_ is only cooperating with Rumple right now because he can protect her. She’s _using_ him. The moment he’s of no use to her, she will walk out again.”

Belle was still stiff. The Black Fairy was a liar, Gabi had always known that – but then why did Belle look so guilty –?

“Tell me, Gabrielle. Why would you want a mother like that?”

“You’re a liar,” Gabi murmured under her breath. She’d heard enough, and she’d come here to see her brother, not to be manipulated by _her._ So she shut her eyes and collapsed the dreamworld, yanking herself and Belle away from the Black Fairy’s poisonous words and back to reality.

There was one clue Gabi received from the venture, if somewhat inadvertently. Her brother _had not_ wanted to leave – so why had he? A theory started to form. She just had to visit that crypt again to see if it was possible.

* * *

 

Belle wasn’t on the cold floor when she awoke; somebody – probably Robin – had put her on a soft blanket with a pillow under her head. Neither Snow nor Emma (both of them still snoring) had gotten the same treatment, she noticed when she rolled over to relieve a cramp in her knee.

“Belle?” called Robin, who was standing behind the counter reading a library book. “You’re awake? What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, awkwardly getting up while trying not to disturb Gabi, still sleeping on Belle’s left.

 _Oh, God._ Gabi. Belle’s heart wrenched as the Black Fairy’s words cut into the wounds she’d thought had long since healed. There was so much that she had to explain – but surely her daughter would understand once she’d heard Belle’s side of the story –

Then Gabi shuddered, woke and jolted upright. Big brown eyes stared at Belle and Robin in turn. Belle opened her mouth to beg for her daughter’s understanding but found she had no idea where to begin. In the end, it didn’t matter, as Gabi scrambled to her feet and raced for the door.

“Gabi! Wait!”

* * *

 

Rumplestiltskin took Gideon straight from the farmhouse to the clock tower. The protections on his house may have failed, but the library was almost as thoroughly shielded as the Dark Castle had been. Rumplestiltskin wasn’t prepared to say that it would hold the Black Fairy off forever – not after she’d already beaten him twice – but it should buy enough time for Gabi to get through to her brother.

In sleep, his boy looked peaceful. No fright, no anger, no pain. Rumplestiltskin watched Gideon gently breathe in and out, slumped in a chair and completely at ease. All that ruined the image was the magic-blocking cuff on Gideon’s wrist and the gold thread tying him to the clock tower railing. He reached out to touch his son’s hair and brushed it out of his eyes.

Had it really all been a ruse to bring the Black Fairy to Storybrooke? Rumplestiltskin didn’t want to believe that, but he knew better than anyone how corruptive the darkness was. Just because Gabi hadn’t given in didn’t mean Gideon wouldn’t.

He let out a sigh. He’d known torture, and this was worse. One of his children was attempting to save the other, and he had no way to help them, or even know what was happening inside his son’s head. Once again he cursed the darkness in his heart that was undoubtedly the source of Gideon’s affliction. All magic came at a price. Right now all he could do now was hope that the cost of his wouldn’t be his son’s soul.

“Gideon,” he murmured, hoping against hope that somehow his boy could hear him. “I don’t know what she’s told you. But we – your mother and I – we do love you. We didn’t send you away, son. We wanted you and Gabi so much. To raise you, watch you grow up.” Rumplestiltskin gulped, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He’d been cheated out of a future with one child – never again. “No matter what’s happened, you can always come home with us. Always. Please, son. Just come home.”

“How nauseatingly lovely.”

Rumplestiltskin jumped up, summoning magic straight to his hands and faced the woman who had just appeared on the stairwell. Damhsa a’Deireadh laughed, entirely unfazed. Again.

“But I’m afraid your son doesn’t want to come home to you, Rumplestiltskin,” she said, waving her hand before he could stop her. Black smoke engulfed Gideon, and his boy disappeared. “If you want him, you already know what you have to do.”

“Why did you come to Storybrooke?” Rumplestiltskin demanded, ignoring the Black Fairy’s insinuations. “What do you want with my family?!”

Instead of answering, the Black Fairy’s face went carefully blank. “You will see,” she said in little more than a whisper. “In time. You will see.”

And then she was gone in the same black cloud that had carried his son away. Rumplestiltskin stared at the spot where Gideon had vanished, then teleported himself out of the clock tower.

“Belle!” he called when he landed on the street in front of the shop. If the Black Fairy had come for his wife and daughter too – “Gabi!”

The door to the shop burst open and a fiery chestnut cannonball charged out; it would have barrelling straight through him if Rumplestiltskin hadn’t jumped aside first. It took him a second to register that the cannonball was his daughter, but by the time he had, she was long gone.

“Gabi!” Belle cried, running out of the shop with Robin on her heels. She stopped when she saw Rumplestiltskin.

“What happened?” he asked, looking from his wife to the outlaw and back again. “Did you see Gideon?”

“Yes.” Then why did she look so downcast? “But _she_ showed up.”

“She sent him away.” A nod. “Gabi. Where did she go?”

“I don’t know.” Belle ran her hands through her hair, close to tears. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit it – Fiona kinda grew on me in an I-want-to-tie-you-to-a-ship-mast-set-it-on-fire-and-push-it-out-to-sea kind of way after “The Black Fairy”; that’s how this story ended up being quite a bit longer than I’d planned.  
> Part XII: the Charmings’ attempt to ambush the Black Fairy goes about as well as expected , and Gabi gets into trouble trying to save all of them


	12. Part XII

There was no time to chase after Gabrielle, no matter what she was doing now. The Black Fairy had taken Gideon gods knew where, and Rumplestiltskin couldn’t let his son spend a second longer than necessary in her hands. She would be weakened for some time, but not long. They had to move while they had the chance.

“I really don’t believe the Black Fairy would make it that easy to track her,” said Robin, staring at the map of the town spread out on the table. An orange mark pulsated over a point deep in the woods. In all likelihood, she was hiding out until she got her strength back.

“I’m not tracking her,” Rumplestiltskin explained. “I’m tracking my son.”

Gideon’s signal remained as strong as ever, but when he tried locating Gabi by the same means, Rumplestiltskin came up with nothing. She must have found a way to mask her signal. Though why Gideon hadn’t done the same …

_Why, son? What are you trying to tell me?_

“We have to get to them before the Charmings do,” Rumplestiltskin continued. He looked to Belle; they both deserved to know the truth. “They don’t understand what they’re up against,” he stated simply. “There’s a very good chance that they may get themselves killed and if that happens, we’ll lose any chance of saving our son. Or your daughter.”

“You know you don’t have to threaten me so I’ll help you,” said Robin, hefting his bow over his shoulder. “I’ve made my choice, and I intend to stick to it.”

“And I appreciate it; I truly do,” Rumplestiltskin replied. “But what I’m saying is that we may have to make some unfortunate decisions before the day is out.”

Belle crossed her arms and frowned. “You mean fight our own people.”

Only somewhat regretfully – more for his wife’s sake than anyone else’s – Rumplestiltskin nodded. “I think it’s come to that.”

“It’s worse than you think.”

The bell jingled as Regina shut the door, and Rumplestiltskin stood up straight. Belle stepped aside to let her in, giving Regina a suspicious frown that the mayor ignored.

“You might be interested to know that they’ve got my sister onboard to go after your son,” Regina informed them in uncharacteristic monotone. Frankly, Rumplestiltskin wasn’t surprised. The Charmings were desperate and, as he knew well, the hero clan was prone to making stupid decisions when they were backed into a corner.

“But not you?” he asked, studying her carefully. The last few years, Regina _had_ been rather chummy with her former adversaries. If he was going to take her advice, he needed to know where she stood.

Regina inhaled sharply, staring at him stony-faced. “They’re going to get themselves killed, aren’t they?”

“It’s a distinct possibility, yes.”

A muscle twitched in her jaw. She glanced sideways at Robin and said, “Well, I want to see my niece again.”

They all looked at each other. Robin shuffled his feet, Belle bit her lip, and – slowly – Rumplestiltskin nodded. “Alright. Let’s go and save our children.”

* * *

 

David wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination or not, but it felt like the woods had dropped ten degrees in as many minutes. An early frost crunched beneath his boots. He could hear water flowing somewhere nearby, but no birds. The trees, like castle guards, stood silent and frozen. There was no sign of the Black Fairy, but the chill in David’s bones told him that they had to be close.

The question was, did she know they were there?

He checked the bearing on Blue’s enchanted compass and then the time on his watch. Blue had estimated that the spell hiding them from the Black Fairy’s magic would work for up to an hour. That left them with a good twenty minutes to set up an ambush.

“She’s in there,” he told his wife and daughter, pointing further up the valley where the underbrush had become incredibly dense. Walking through that stuff without making enough noise to wake the whole of Storybrooke would be next to impossible. Perhaps there was a way to lure her out?

“Regina still isn’t answering?” Emma whispered to Snow, who shook her head.

“We can do this without her,” said Zelena. David ignored the ferocious concentration on the witch’s face. It had been Snow’s suggestion to get her involved but really, David would rather not have asked the witch to help them if they’d had any other choice. The only point of confidence he had was that, according to Regina, the Black Fairy took baby Diane at the same time she’d stolen Gideon from his parents. That meant Zelena had something to gain from working with David and Snow.

“Alright, this is how we’re going to do this,” he said, drawing a crude map of the area on the ground with his sword. “Snow and I are going to try and lure her out of hiding. While we do that – Emma, you and Zelena go after Gideon.”

“You think you can hold her off that long?” asked Emma.

“We’ve got the compass, Blue’s cloaking spell and enough squid ink to take down an army of Dark Ones,” said Snow. “We’ll be fine. You two just concentrate on taking Gideon out of the equation.”

“To that end –” said Zelena, looking over David’s shoulder. “You may want to revise that plan.”

“What?” asked David. “Why?”

He heard the footsteps a moment after she pointed. “We’re not alone out here.”

* * *

 

They hadn’t got there first.

Rumplestiltskin swore under his breath as his magical senses picked up the traces of cinnamon and olives – Emma and Zelena, respectively – roughly six yards away as he tracked his son to a dark part of the northern Storybrooke woods. They were so far out that they were forced to trek through the wild mountainous terrain, the hiking trails having come to a stop several miles back. He had hoped to beat the Charming clan to their goal, but it seemed that they were more resourceful than he’d first believed. And they had Zelena with them. Rumplestiltskin was not surprised, but the thought of the witch’s presence still sent shivers down his spine.

“We’re not alone,” said Robin, drawing an arrow from his quiver. Magic crackled from Regina’s fingers as she readied herself, and Belle held her dagger with shaking fingers.

“Aye,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. Louder, he called, “We know you’re there, dearie. You can show yourself!”

The foliage to his left rustled. A distraction, and a poor one, since Rumplestiltskin knew that Charming was behind the tree to his right.

Robin must have realised the same thing. He nudged Rumplestiltskin with his elbow and murmured, “Regina and I can take them. You need to get to your son.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded; so did Belle. He took a tentative step towards his wife, then tensed, listening closely.

“Robin, duck.” He turned on his heels, calling up the necessary magic as he did to turn Emma’s spell back towards her before it hit Robin. The outlaw had just enough time to duck and roll out of the way. Green magic hurtled towards him; Regina deflected it and then threw a fireball at her sister. It hit a holly bush, which ignited.

Meanwhile, Rumplestiltskin commanded a tree to uproot itself and attack Emma. While she yelped in pain and fought the tree’s flailing branches, he turned to run – they still had to find the Black Fairy – but was stopped short by a blade that would have taken his head off had Rumplestiltskin not conjured a sword of his own to block the blow. He parried Charming’s initial attack but found himself on the defence as the prince swung at him again and again until their swords locked together.

“We can’t turn on each other like this,” Charming growled. He’d thrown his whole body weight into the blow; Rumplestiltskin had to use both hands to keep him at bay. “Or we’ll never defeat the Black Fairy!”

“I’m glad you agree,” Rumplestiltskin growled back. “Drop the sword.”

Charming glared. “Drop yours.”

“No.”

“You’re going to kill my daughter!”

“ _You are going to kill my son!”_

Rumplestiltskin let go, leaping backwards while Charming fell in a heap, carried forwards by his own momentum. He made to run once more, but the prince recovered much quicker than he would have liked. Worse still, he felt the spells imbued in Charming’s sword, protecting him from whatever Rumplestiltskin may have thrown at him. He parried the next blow, feinted to the left and then swung at Charming’s knees, slashing the left one at mid-thigh so that the prince stumbled backwards with a grunt of pain.

The battle had begun.

* * *

 

The Charmings and Zelena were too occupied fighting Rumple and Regina to pay much attention to Belle, so she slipped out of the fray and into the dense forest unhindered. She clutched her dagger with a shaking hand, trying to look in every direction at once. One tiny knife likely would not do much against the Black Fairy. But she had to try.

Her son was out here somewhere. Belle ran for it, not bothering to keep quiet. She couldn’t track, so her only hope was to draw Gideon to her.

“Gideon! It’s Mum! Can you hear me? Please! I just want to talk! Please – Aah!”

Belle dived out of the way as an arrow thudded into the tree next to her, showering her with bark and splinters. Holly thorns scratched her on the way down. She twisted, panting as she searched for her assailant –

Snow had another arrow nocked, raised and ready to shoot. Belle scrambled backwards and raised her knife as best she could – not that she really expected it to do her much good –

Then Snow tumbled down the hill, thrown forwards by Robin ploughing straight into her.

“Go!”

Belle didn’t waste time arguing, and clambered to her feet. She made it four yards before she tripped and landed heavily on her hands, feeling her skin break on a tree root. Boots appeared in front of her face; Belle looked up to see Emma standing over her, dirt on her face and panting.

“Emma, please don’t do this.”

The sheriff just shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, Belle. I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do!” Belle got up. Emma tensed, so she held out her hands and dropped the knife. Hazel eyes frowned in confusion; Belle took advantage of it. “You have a choice. You’ve always had a choice.”

Something flashed in Emma’s eyes and she hesitated, her hand twitching as indecision wracked her. Belle heard it a second later – a scuttling noise through the undergrowth, like dozens of tiny feet smashing leaves and brambles aside in their hurry to get somewhere. She pushed Emma out of the way a moment before something black and hairy the size of a small car leapt out of the bushes. The thing scrambled for purchase on the slippery slope before rolling down the hill, but there were more of them right behind it. Giant spiders, Belle realised with a shiver.

Emma hit the nearest one with a bolt of white magic, sending it flying into the rest of the horde. That confused them for a moment, but it wouldn’t last. They were outnumbered five to one, and Belle had just thrown away her only weapon.

“Zelena!” Emma shouted over her shoulder. The witch had just appeared over the ledge – Belle felt her stomach drop when she realised that neither Rumple nor Regina were anywhere to be seen. “Help!”

Zelena flicked her wrist, green magic flying, but the spiders weren’t the target. All of the air was squeezed out of Belle’s chest as she hit the ground painfully. She heard a crack in her shoulder and rolled onto her side, sharp pains shooting up her arm. Emma landed beside her, having received the same treatment.

“What the hell are you doing?!” shouted David, who had just appeared from the trees with Regina on his heels.

“I’m sorry, Prince Charming,” said Zelena with that sickening grin that would haunt Belle’s nightmares forever. “But I’ve had a better offer.”

“You sold out to the Black Fairy?!” shouted Regina.

“She has my daughter!” Zelena screeched back. Belle would have hit her if Regina hadn’t beaten her to it, a solid right hook to Zelena’s face. The witch hissed in pain, green sparks crackling from her fingertips. Then there was a _twang,_ and she screamed, an arrow protruding from her left collarbone. Robin had another arrow ready to go, but Zelena was done. She disappeared.

“Nice shot,” Belle commented.

“Thanks.” He extended a hand to help her up; Belle had to use her left hand as her right was still throbbing. “I was aiming for her mouth, but as usual it was moving too fast.”

“Look out!”

Belle ducked as David swung his sword at the spider that had just lunged for her. The rest of them hurried forwards now that the witch was gone, clicking their mandibles hungrily. Regina threw three fireballs in quick succession, which made them think twice but didn’t scare them off in the slightest. Robin tossed her a knife to replace the one that Belle had foolishly thrown aside. She still didn’t think it would do much good.

* * *

 

Emma was really starting to hate these things. She joined Regina in attacking them with magic, but within seconds that proved to be minimally more effective than her handgun. Oh, she could knock them down all right, but the spiders just kept coming back. There was no way to stay on top of them. David swung left and right, cutting limbs with each blow while Belle held off two with a knife no longer than her forearm and Robin’s arrows clattered uselessly off the spiders’ shells.

“About time you showed up!” she heard Regina shout, following by a sharp retort from Rumplestiltskin and a wave of red light that knocked eight spiders onto their asses. Obviously the old sorcerer had recovered from whatever Zelena had thrown at him; Emma hadn’t exactly hung around to ask what it was.

Then David grabbed her and shoved her away from the fight.

“Go!” he shouted, pushing her away when she tried to return to the fight. He tossed her Blue’s enchanted compass. “You still have to find the Black Fairy!”

 _Oh, right!_ Emma chided herself. It was what they had come out here for, after all. She hit one more spider with a bolt of magic, tossing it headfirst into a tree, and then ran. Hopefully, that was all of her spiders she’d sent to fight David and the others.

According to the compass, the Black Fairy was further north. Emma drew her gun. She didn’t know how much good it would do, but it had to be better than nothing. At the very least, she knew it would hurt Gideon.

_Please!_

Emma shoved aside the sound of Belle’s voice replaying in her head, along with the image of her wide, pleading blue eyes.

“This is the only way,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“What is, dearie?”

Emma whirled around and fired one shot. It stopped in mid-air less than an inch from the Black Fairy’s face and disappeared in a cloud of midnight smoke. Sticky white tendrils then hit Emma square in the chest, causing her to drop the gun. They wrapped around her torso and wrists, tying her securely to a tree. She struggled against them. It was like trying to rip through steel cable.

“I have to say, I’m rather disappointed,” said the Black Fairy, sneering down at Emma while she still fought in vain to free herself. “I would have thought that somebody called the Saviour would be much harder to kill.”

“Well, I’m not dead yet,” Emma snapped.

The Black Fairy grunted, perhaps in amusement. “This is true. But easily amended. Gideon, kill her.”

_Oh, crap._

Gideon tentatively stepped forwards, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. Emma struggled harder, and the Black Fairy cackled like an actual movie villain. Had the circumstances been any different, Emma would have commented on the cliché. But right now she had other things to worry about.

“Gideon,” she pleaded as he slowly made his way towards her. “Please. Please don’t do this.”

He looked at her with those big brown eyes. He didn’t look triumphant. If anything, he looked miserable. Hopeless, even. But he didn’t drop the sword.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said in a small voice. “I was hoping you could save us both.”

She shut her eyes. _This is it,_ she thought, waiting for the blow to come. _I’m gonna die._

_I’m sorry, Henry._

Or not.

Somebody screamed, a blood-curdling cry that split through the forest and cracked windows from over a mile away. The cords around Emma’s wrists slackened, just enough for her to wrench her hands free and tear at the ones around her midriff.

“GABI!”

The Black Fairy continued to scream as thick blood poured from her chest and onto the ground. Gabi was on her back, holding on for dear life. She’d stabbed the fairy beneath the collarbone and was using that to haul her backwards into a holly bush. The foliage rustled. Emma quickly found her gun and fired – some of the spiders must have broken off the fight when they heard their mistress’ cry. The bullets did no good, but the creatures weren’t interested in her. They attacked Gabi, biting and clawing while they tried to make her let go. Somehow, the little slip of a girl held on.

“Run!” she screamed at Emma and Gideon while a spider tore her sleeve, missed and bit the Black Fairy instead. “I can’t hold her for long!”

She was right, Emma realised. More spiders were coming, trying to loosen Gabi’s grip with their front legs. The Black Fairy screamed again; one of the monsters had accidentally stabbed her in the back. She twisted violently and spun on the spot, stumbling from the effort, but Gabi had finally succumbed to the effects of poison and blood loss. She fell from the Black Fairy’s back and collapsed on the ground. She wasn’t moving.

While Gideon ran to his sister, Emma holstered her gun and then raised both hands. She concentrated on the Black Fairy’s bloodied face, using rage and the need to protect her family from this monster to fuel her magic. Raw power tore out of her and hit the weakened fairy, who flew into a tree. Emma prepared for another attack, but the Black Fairy ducked behind the tree, black smoke engulfing her. She was gone before Emma could catch her.

“Shit.”

“Emma!” Gideon called. She turned; he had Gabi, bloodied and lifeless, in his arms. It looked like she was still breathing, but not for much longer. “Please. Please help her.”

Emma turned back to the spot where the Black Fairy had disappeared. There was a lot of blood soaking the forest floor, much more than a human could afford to lose. Enough to kill her? Maybe, but then Emma had no idea if the Black Fairy could heal her wounds or not. Her spiders were gone, too. That had to mean she was badly hurt if she couldn’t make them keep fighting.

“She’s dying,” said Gideon, eyes wide and pleading. “Please.”

Emma stood still. Her hand had begun to shake of its own accord again.

The Black Fairy was hurt. Her spiders were gone. Emma made up her mind. She had to take the chance while she could.

What little colour remained in Gideon’s face drained away as Emma drew her gun, taking careful aim. He was cradling his sister close, but there was no time to think of that. She had one chance –

Then she hit the ground again, the smell of apples and spice filling her nose and pain shooting up and down her back. Winded, she had just enough strength to roll onto her side in time to see Regina sweep Gideon and Gabi away in a cloud of purple magic. A moment later, Emma collapsed on her back and shut her eyes, too tired to fight any longer.

* * *

 

Regina would have taken the twins back to Rumple’s house, but the manor had been sealed with a blood lock she had no hope of breaking through. So she dropped them in her front hall instead and whipped out her phone. It went to voicemail as she expected.

“RUMPLE!” she shouted as loud as she could, hoping the imp could hear her in the middle of the battle. “GET BACK TO MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW! YOUR DAUGHTER’S HURT!”

She could only hope he’s heard. Gideon had picked up his sister and laid her on the lounge. Those spiders had a hell of a bite. Regina counted eight bloodied wounds on Gabi’s arms and legs, and a particularly nasty one on her neck that oozed a shiny blackish liquid. Where it wasn’t covered in blood, her skin was the colour of ash dotted with beads of sweat. She was as rigid as a board and drawing ragged, pained breaths that made Regina cringe.

_Come on, Rumple._

Right on cue, crimson smoke whirled in her foyer and solidified into the form of Rumple and Belle. They spotted Regina, looked past her and forgot she was there the moment they saw their children.

“What happened?!” Belle cried as she and her husband raced to the couch. “Gideon?”

“Arachnid bites,” their son replied, grasping his sister’s hand like a lifeline. “Can you save her?”

“I’ll do what I can,” said Rumplestiltskin. He gently tilted Gabi’s head to the side to inspect her wound. His face remained carefully blank, but Regina knew him well enough to realise how scared he was. Liquid continued to ooze from Gabi’s neck as Rumple put his hand on her forehead, muttering under his breath. Slowly, the bleeding ceased.

“That won’t stop the venom,” said Gideon.

“No,” Rumple affirmed. He conjured a vial to his hand and opened it beneath Gabi’s neck wound, collecting a sample of the venom. “But it should buy enough time to make an antidote. Belle, stay with her. Regina, where do you keep –?”

“In the kitchen.”

He rushed past her. Regina left him to it. She would only get in the way and from the look of it, Gabi didn’t have much time to waste.

* * *

 

Five minutes later, Gabi was even greyer. Belle and Gideon stayed by her side, both pale and on the verge of tears. Regina paced her living room. It was her home, yes, but she felt out of place regardless – like she was intruding on something private. On the other hand, she had nowhere else to go. Even Snow and David were smart enough to realise that Regina was no longer on their side. They probably had Blue out looking for her now, in addition to Rumple and Gideon. Zelena was probably lying low somewhere, healing her injuries. Regina didn’t care to go after her. Not now. She just couldn’t face it.

She busied herself putting a stronger protection spell around her house, one that couldn’t be broken by blood magic just in case Zelena decided to come around and finish the job. It would also keep the Charming clan away. Another group of people that Regina just didn’t want to talk to right now.

“Quickly, quickly,” Rumple muttered to himself as he raced back into the room, pushing past Regina as he did. He dropped down beside his wife, a hypodermic needle in his hand, and tugged at Gabi’s jacket. “Help me get her sleeve up.”

“Will it work?” asked Regina.

“I lost one child,” Rumple snarled as he injected the antivenom into Gabi’s arm. She moaned in pain, screwed up her face and tried to pull away; Belle held her still. “I’ll be damned if I do it again.”

Gabi groaned and whimpered in pain for what was probably only a few seconds, but felt like hours. Finally she went limp. Regina panicked – Belle, Rumple and Gideon even worse – but the girl inhaled sharply, convulsed once more, and went still. Belle put a hand to Gabi’s nose and then gasped in relief.

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered breathlessly. “She’s still breathing.”

“Aye,” said Rumple. “It’ll take a few minutes until the venom’s completely flushed from her system. Help me get her jacket off.”

Belle did. There were more wounds that Regina hadn’t noticed at first, mostly minor scrapes and scratches. The bite on her neck was the worst; Rumple put a hand to it in an effort to stem the flow.

“My magic can’t heal these. Regina, have you got a first-aid kit?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen.”

She ran as best she could in heels, found the kit on top of the fridge and brought it back.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” Rumple dumped the contents of the whole kit onto the floor and grabbed every bandage, working on the worst injuries first.

“She will be alright, won’t she, Papa?” Gideon murmured, still clutching Gabi’s hand like his life depended on it. The poor boy cried freely now; he sniffled and wiped his face with his free hand.

“She’ll be fine, son,” Rumple said with a small smile. “Best just to let her sleep for now.”

“I want to stay with her.”

“Hey,” said Belle, putting a hand on her son’s back. “We’re not gonna make you go anywhere.”

Gideon didn’t look reassured, but gave a half-smile and clutched his sister’s hand tighter.

“Gid,” Belle murmured gently. “What happened out there?”

“She attacked us.”

“The Black Fairy?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Emma.”

“ _Emma_ attacked you?”

Gideon nodded. He didn’t seem capable of saying much more, so Regina stepped in.

“The Black Fairy was hurt too,” she offered, feeling sheepish under Belle’s intense blue gaze. “She got away while she was fighting Emma, but once she was gone …”

“She intended to finish the job,” Rumple concluded without an ounce of surprise.

Regina nodded shamefully. She’d never once thought of Emma as the type to turn on a helpless young man begging her to save someone who was near death. She still couldn’t quite believe that was what she’d really seen, but she also couldn’t deny it any longer. Emma had changed, and not for the better.

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted. “I saw your daughter hurt and thought the best thing would be to get them out of there as soon as possible.”

“You saved them?” said Belle, rising from her crouched position next to her son. Regina blanched.

“Well, I –”

She got no further, as Belle launched herself forwards and wrapped her arms around Regina in an all-encompassing hug. And she was crying, too.

“Thank you,” she sobbed into her ear.

“I –” Regina gulped. She couldn’t seem to make words work with Belle squeezing all of the air out of her chest. Rumple had frozen too, his own eyes damp with tears. Regina had no idea what to do. She wasn’t used to being hugged like this.

“You’re – you’re welcome,” she managed to mutter after a moment, and even hugged Belle in return. After another few seconds, Belle pulled back and wiped her face before letting Rumple put an arm around her. Regina stepped back to let them have a moment. It had been a long day. They could probably use it.

* * *

 

The twins were exactly where Belle had left them half an hour ago when she and Regina went to make something to eat. Gideon had taken his coat off, folded it neatly on the armrest, and continued to hold his sister’s hand like he was afraid to let go. Gabi was asleep, but sleeping comfortably. Her colour was back, the bleeding had stopped, and she was breathing easily. Belle wasn’t a doctor, but she was confident now that her daughter was going to be okay.

“Hey.” She gently nudged Gideon’s shoulder to announce her presence. “I made soup, if you’re hungry.”

Gideon blinked twice, staring at the proffered food like he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“It’s for you,” Belle explained. “I won’t say it’s good – your father usually does the cooking.”

“Thank – thank you,” he murmured, taking the bowl awkwardly in one hand. He balanced it on his knees to make things easier. “I – I don’t know how much time I’ve got,” he said, wiping his face with his free hand. “I don’t wanna leave her.”

“Then don’t,” said Belle. She sat on the coffee table next to her son and put a hand on his back, rubbing circles gently in a way that had always calmed his father. “Nobody’s gonna make you go anywhere.”

But that just made him screw up his face in an effort not to cry. Gideon sniffled and wiped his nose again, staring down at his sister. “She’s gonna call for me any minute and I’ll have to go. She won’t give me a choice –”

“She can’t.”

“Hey.” Belle fell to her knees and cradled Gabi’s face in her hands as her daughter groaned, fighting her way back to consciousness. “Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t try to talk.”

Gabi groaned and painfully lifted an arm, patting her side as if she were looking for something. Whatever it was, wasn’t there, so she cracked open one eye. “Jacket,” she managed to say, though the effort clearly drained her. “In the pocket.”

Her jacket was on the armchair, where Rumple had left it after he’d finished bandaging the worst of the bites. Belle looked over, but Rumple was closer, having just walked in with Regina. He handed Belle one of the bowls he’d brought in before rummaging in the coat pockets, retrieving in turn – a switchblade, what looked like a handful of pipe cleaners, four double-A batteries, a screwdriver –

And a heart.

“What?” Belle exclaimed, louder than she’d intended. It wasn’t like the other hearts Belle had seen. This one was almost completely white, with red streaks where the arteries would be on a diagram. As for whose it was …

“She had your heart?” Regina murmured, looking to Gideon. He had frozen, staring fixedly at the crystallised organ in his father’s hand. In fact, he looked like he may faint. Belle moved the soup from his knees just in case.

“I nicked it off her during the fight,” Gabi continued, short of breath even from that simple sentence.

“How – how did you know?” asked Gideon, turning to her with wide eyes.

“I had a hunch,” she said, giving him a weak half-smile. “I knew you weren’t really working with her.”

Belle gaped. The Black Fairy had taken her son’s heart – _that_ was why he’d seemingly turned against them. He hadn’t left Emma for dead after all – she’d _forced_ him to do it –

She looked to Rumple and reached for his hand while tears stung her eyes. Their son had never been lost to them. And now he was home.

Gideon let out a gasp that was half-cry and half-laugh before he threw his arms around his sister, scooping her up in a hug equal to the one Belle had given Regina a short while earlier. Both siblings cried. Belle felt Rumple come up behind her and put his hand on her back. She leant into him and began to cry from relief, crying with the children who had, after twenty-eight years, had finally broken free from the monster who had stolen their lives.

The Black Fairy hadn’t really turned Gideon after all. And now he was safe, free from her influence. Gabi was going to live. She’d saved him.

The day was far from over, but Belle didn’t care. She had her family back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your choice of mallets, sledgehammers and rusty saws are in a box to your left. Blankets, hot tea and Granny’s hamburgers on the right. 
> 
> Part XIII: Rumple puts his son’s heart back where it belongs, Emma faces some harsh realities, the twins realise they need a new plan, and everybody gets a well-earned rest.


	13. Part XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.

“Are you ready?”

Gideon nodded and shut his eyes, his face scrunched up from the anticipation of pain. “Just do it.”

Rumplestiltskin juggled his son’s heart in his hand for a moment before pressing the organ into Gideon’s chest as gently as he could. Gideon still cringed – there was no way to eliminate the pain entirely, much as Rumplestiltskin wanted to – but blinked with surprise once the feeling had passed.

“That – that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Rumplestiltskin affirmed, giving his son’s shoulder a squeeze. “How do you feel?”

Gideon paused as if expecting something else to happen. When it didn’t, he wiped his misty eyes and sniffled. “Free.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled. “Welcome home, son.”

He stood up, and Rumplestiltskin welcomed his boy with open arms, holding him close while Gideon gently cried onto his shoulder. He was vaguely aware of Regina watching them from the pantry – she was making spaghetti for dinner – and ignored her.

“Door.”

“Hmm?”

Gideon pulled away just as a key turned in the locked kitchen door; Rumplestiltskin stood in front of his son as he and Regina prepared for whatever attack was coming, but it was only Robin.

“Just me,” said the outlaw with his hands raised, kicking the door shut. Rumplestiltskin let his magic subside, knowing it wasn’t somebody disguised as Robin Hood – he’d deliberately hid a spell to reveal glamour charms as part of the additional protections he’d put around the mayor’s house. “Sorry I took so long.”

“What happened?” asked Belle, who’d just walked into the kitchen from the lounge room.

“Well, the Black Fairy took off,” said Robin, taking a seat at the table. “David said she was hurt?”

“Arachnid bites,” said Gideon with a cursory glance at his sister, sleeping comfortably on the sofa.

“Ah. Anyway, David took out a search warrant on your house and shop,” Robin continued. Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes as the outlaw picked an apple out of the fruit bowl and cut it into bite-sized pieces with a pocketknife. He already knew what Robin was going to say. “They found Emma just after you two took off. Apparently they’ve managed to convince themselves that we’re all working for the Black Fairy – Gina included – so they’ve gone looking for magic to use against you. Something about a magical cage they once locked you in?”

“They’re welcome to try,” Rumplestiltskin spat. Anything that could possibly be of use to the Charming clan was locked in either the cellar or the safe, both of which only _he_ could open.

“Yeah, that’s what I told them,” said Robin.

“So where have you been?” asked Regina.

“In jail.”

“They _arrested_ you?”

Robin shrugged. “Like I said, they’ve convinced themselves that we’re working for the Black Fairy. When I wouldn’t help them break into your house, David chucked me in the station.”

“How did you get out?” asked Belle.

Robin laughed. “I’ve been in more secure prisons than the sheriff’s station, believe me.”

“Right. I forgot.”

“That, and David was stupid enough to leave his keys hanging on his belt. Child’s play.”

In spite of himself, Rumplestiltskin couldn’t resist a chuckle. Belle laughed too; Regina was clearly holding back, and even Gideon smiled.

“Regardless, I’m not sure how safe it is to stay here,” said Robin once the laughter subsided. “It didn’t take me long to realise you were here. They’ll figure it out too sooner or later.”

“They’re not getting in here,” said Rumplestiltskin. Robin chewed his apple thoughtfully, then nodded.

“I see.”

“Do you know if they’ve been to the library yet?” asked Belle.

“Not that I know of.”

She bit her lip, thinking.

“What’s the matter?” Rumplestiltskin asked.

“There’s nothing of importance they’ll be able to take from the house,” she said, which Rumplestiltskin already knew. “But there are some things I’d like to get from the library.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“Could I?” Gideon piped up suddenly, attracting everyone’s attention. He shied away from it, visibly uncomfortable. Rumplestiltskin understood, far better than he liked. “Um, come – come with you?”

“Of course, son,” he said softly. “Go on, grab your coat.”

Gideon nodded and walked with Rumplestiltskin to the coat rack. He paused, looking back into the lounge room. Gabi wouldn’t be on her feet until morning at least, but with Rumplestiltskin’s and Regina’s combined magics guarding the house, she was hidden in what was easily the most well-protected place in Storybrooke. Still, Rumplestiltskin understood it couldn’t be easy for Gideon to leave his sister alone; not with the Black Fairy still on the loose, and Gabi in such a vulnerable condition.

“Look after her,” Gideon said to Regina.

She started – so did Rumplestiltskin, both at the request and the fact that Gideon had spoken – but she nodded after a moment’s hesitation anyway.

“I will.”

“Come on,” Rumplestiltskin said, gently guiding his son out of the door with Belle just behind.

* * *

 

It was the smell that Belle noticed first. When she’d last been to the library – _had that really only been a day ago?_ – she had been in no frame of mind to register the dirty dishes sitting in the sink, or how stuffy it had become from four days without an open window. Or worst of all, the sack of unwashed laundry in the hamper including the bloodied sheets and towels dumped in there and forgotten about, given that Belle and Rumple had been planning on leaving town and all.

 _When this is over, I’m just gonna burn that whole hamper,_ Belle thought, stuffing her nose into her shirt in a vain effort to disguise the worst of the stench. She would probably chuck away most of the dishes too, and burn the carpet –

“We were born in this room.”

Belle started at the sound of Gideon’s voice. He was standing not three feet away, leaning against the doorframe while his eyes looked into the bedroom, but his mind was clearly in another world entirely.

“This is where we were born,” he repeated with that odd tone of voice that sounded like it belonged to a wise old sage – not a twenty-eight-year-old boy who had suffered through the worst kind of hell that Belle could imagine.

“Yeah,” she said, joining him by the door. “Yeah, you were.”

The teddy bear still sat on the bed where she had left it just the night before. Belle walked in and picked it up gingerly.

“This isn’t … exactly what I had in mind for you,” she murmured, picking lint out of the bear’s fur. “Your father and I, we … well, let’s just say we didn’t exactly plan to have a baby right now but … from the moment we knew you existed, we loved you. We wanted you so much.”

She turned around; Gideon was still standing there, unchanged apart from a slight crease in his brow and a light mist coating his eyes. This was possibly the first time he’d been allowed to show any emotion at all.

“I was going to teach you to read from that book,” Belle continued. “‘ _Her Handsome Hero’._ It was the first book my mother ever read to me. The book that made me fall in love with reading.”

She picked more lint out of the bear’s fur just to have something to do with her hands.

“We never got to do any of it,” she said. “Never got to see you grow, learn how to walk, talk, read. I wanted to teach you to dance. Your father and I love to dance.”

She stopped again. Gideon had bit his lip. Ruby had once mentioned that was something Belle did when she was thinking.

“Well, I – I don’t know how to dance,” he said, and released a small chuckle.

In spite of herself, Belle laughed too. “Would you like to learn?”

Gideon nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

Belle smiled, a faint ray of hope breaking through the last four days of gloom. And then, just because Fate seemed to get a kick out of ruining those moments, somebody slammed the downstairs library door.

It wasn’t Rumple because he had just appeared at the top of the stairs with a look of concern relieved by the sight of his wife and son. “Stay here,” Belle instructed Gideon, who nodded obediently and shuffled behind the wall.

Voices echoed up the stairs, along with the sound of somebody walking on the library floor. Belle swallowed a wave of bile when she realised who it was.

“We should come back later,” said Emma. Her blonde curls flashed past the stairway entrance. The dark head of her mother stopped close to the open door, by a non-fiction shelf that, had Snow any understanding whatsoever of the Dewey Decimal System (or libraries in general), she would know contained a myriad of books on how to perform child-friendly science experiments with only ingredients found in a kitchen.

“It’s a public library, Emma. Anyone can come here during opening hours – _oooffff!_ ”

Four days ago, Belle would have answered Snow’s statement with a cutting remark and a request not to damage any of her books. Today, it was a good thing that Snow had not held anything in her hands that she may have dropped because Belle had charged down the last three steps and smacked the schoolteacher square in the jaw for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

“Gods!” Snow exclaimed, scrambling out of reach while she clutched her reddened face. It wasn’t necessary; Belle was done. She was not a violent person by any means, and the look of surprise on Snow’s face was all the satisfaction she needed.

“By all means, Mrs Nolan,” said Rumple calmly, as though Belle had not just punched somebody. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, making his presence clear to all – and despite recent circumstances, Snow White was still smart enough to fear the Dark One. Both she and Emma stepped back, making no attempts to retaliate. “But of course, you are aware that Belle is the custodian of this library, and as such, she is well within her rights to order you off the premises. Forcefully, if necessary.”

“Unless I arrest both of you for assault right now,” said Emma.

Belle was glad for Rumple’s presence. She wasn’t sure what she might have done if he hadn’t been there.

And he laughed. “You’re welcome to try that, Sheriff Swan, but I should remind you, that badge only holds authority on the basis of public approval. Which, may I say, is at an all-time low.”

Emma clearly wanted to hide the impact that statement had, but she poorly disguised the tension in her jaw and brow. “Where’s Gideon?”

“You really expect us to tell you that?” said Belle coolly.

“You’re kidding, right?” said Snow. “After everything he’s done, how can you still defend him?”

“ _How can I defend him?”_ Belle exclaimed, held back only by Rumple’s grip on her shoulder. “He is my son! You defended everything _she_ did after she became the Dark One! This is the same – _damn_ – thing, Snow!”

“You don’t know him!” Snow snapped.

“Neither do you!”

“Gideon’s actions were not his own, Mrs Nolan,” said Rumple, still calm. But his grip had tightened; Belle knew he was holding himself in check, and it was not an easy task. “It is true that the Black Fairy attempted to turn him to evil. But when she realised that he would never become the monster she desired, she took his heart in order to control him. Thankfully, Gabrielle figured out what she had done and she was able to retrieve it, at great risk to herself and – incidentally – saving Miss Swan’s life in the process. My son is a victim of the Black Fairy. Not her co-conspirator.”

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You really expect us to believe that?”

“Well, I had hoped you would see reason,” said Rumple, “and help somebody who needs help. Like heroes are _supposed_ to do.”

“He doesn’t need help, Gold!” said Emma. “He needs to take responsibility for his actions instead of you two cleaning up the mess!”

“Oh, my God,” Belle swore. It caught Emma’s attention, as intended, and the sheriff stopped in mid-stupidity. “Do you even hear yourself? It’s fine for you to cover up your boyfriend’s murder of an innocent man by stealing everyone’s memories, and then blackmailing my husband into taking you to the Underworld so you could try to bring a dead pirate back to life – yeah, I know all about that!” Belle shouted as the colour – what little of it remained – drained from Emma’s face. She couldn’t bring herself to care. She was done letting these people walk all over her and Rumple without so much as a thank-you. “But _anybody else_ , you can’t even spare ten minutes to consider the possibility that you might be wrong?”

“And need I remind you that our daughter has saved your life twice in the past six hours?” Rumple added.

“How do we know that the Black Fairy really took Gideon’s heart?” asked Snow. “How do you know he didn’t take it out himself, like Cora did?”

 _Bloody hell,_ thought Belle, and rolled her eyes. She obviously hadn’t hurt Snow’s jaw enough.

“And why would he do that?” said Rumple.

“Who are you to say that he didn’t? Look, I get that he’s your son and all – but you don’t know him!”

Belle threw her hands in the air and turned to face her husband. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

“Agreed,” Rumple growled. “Let’s go home.”

They hadn’t made it half a step before Snow shouted: “I have every right to protect my daughter!”

“And we have every right to protect our son!” Belle returned, rounding on the fair princess once more. She clenched her fists and took several deep breaths; the rational part of her brain had kicked in and reminded her that anger would only escalate the situation.

“What happened to you, Snow?” Belle asked once she felt her temper was somewhat under control. “You helped Regina, you helped Hook, Zelena, even _Hades_ for goodness sake! _Why_ is Gideon any different? Why is _my son_ –” Belle was pleading now – “any different?”

Snow remained unrepentant. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”

“Yes, you do,” said Rumple, a dangerous, animalistic growl entering his voice. Very rarely had Belle heard that growl, and if Snow had any sense, she would have grabbed Emma and run. “Yes, you do have to justify yourself, because this is the mother of the boy you talk so callously about murdering in cold blood. You would demand the same of us if our roles were reversed. If you continue down this road, knowing what we’ve told you – _knowing_ that our son _is_ innocent – then I’m afraid it’s you who is the real villain, Snow White. You will be no better than the Black Fairy.”

A muscle tensed in Snow’s jaw. “Come on,” she said, grabbing Emma’s arm and tugging her in the direction of the front door.

“One last thing,” Rumple called when they were less than a foot from the entrance. He took a step towards them; Belle stayed close to his side, glaring at Snow all the while. “I protected my child from the Lord of the Underworld himself. I will protect him from you. If that means I have to kill you myself, then so be it. So I would suggest you think long and hard about your next move, because whatever you do now will show this town exactly what has become of their precious heroes.”

Snow tugged on Emma’s arm once more. “Let’s go.”

And then they were gone, and Belle let out the cry she’d kept bottled up until then. Rumple had his arms around her in an instant – God, she swore she would never take him for granted again – and she breathed in the smell of his hair, the familiarity of his body, just grateful that there was somebody there. She didn’t know how she would have possibly survived if she’d had to fight this war without him.

“Belle,” Rumple murmured with a nudge that meant to tell her to let go. She did, turned, and realised what he’d seen.

“You heard that, didn’t you?” she asked Gideon, who was on the third step (his feet were on the floor) half-hidden in the shadows. It wasn’t really a question, though. The yelling must have caught his attention. He nodded, looking sheepish. Belle could hardly judge him – she’d snuck into plenty of her father’s war councils in her youth.

“Oh, Gid.”

He flinched as she knelt in front of him, gently taking his hands with hers. He looked confused.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “You came here looking for help, and all you’ve received is – is _this._ ”

“It’s not your fault,” Gideon murmured, so quiet that she almost missed it.

“We’ll find another way to defeat her,” Belle told him, squeezing his hands to emphasise her point. “I promise.”

“As do I, son,” said Rumple.

Gideon was quiet for a minute, looking from one parent to another – and then slowly nodded.

“I guess Roland was wrong,” he said, bending his neck to look at the door where Snow and Emma had disappeared. “She’s not the Saviour. Not anymore.”

 _I know,_ thought Belle, with a glance at Rumple. _That’s what I’m sorry for._

* * *

 

The pot was taking forever to boil. Regina leant against her kitchen counter, waiting until she could cook the spaghetti, and stared into a cup of tea. Well, not really. She stared at her _knuckles_ , wrapped around the steaming hot mug that – had she not been an infamous sorceress – would have left nasty burns on her hands. Regina didn’t really care. It detracted the pain from her knuckles, which were red, sore and starting to bruise from the right hook she’d delivered to Zelena’s jaw not three hours before.

“Gina?” she heard Robin murmur. He’d snuck up behind her with his soft outlaw feet.

“Hey,” she replied. It was the most they’d spoken in weeks – _months_ , really – and despite all the times Regina had thought about how their first interaction would go, she found herself with no idea what to say.

“How – how are you?”

It was the best she could manage.

“Okay. Is there a reason why the pot’s on the wrong burner?”

“What?”

“The pot.” Robin pointed to the bottom left burner; the pot was on the bottom right. “You turned that one on and put the pot on that one. If you’re waiting for it to boil, we’re gonna be here a while.”

Regina swore. He was right; she’d turned the wrong stove on. No wonder it wasn’t boiling.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Robin.

She cursed again, having accidentally touched the hot handle – which had been sitting over the burner that was on, thus cooking the wrong part of the pot – and finally got the pot onto the correct stove. From the corner of her eye, she could see into the living room. Gabrielle was still asleep on the sofa. She’d be like that for several hours, possibly all day, according to Rumplestiltskin. But it wasn’t the girl’s condition that drove a knife straight into Regina’s stomach.

“My sister,” she answered in a small voice. Zelena’s latest betrayal hung heavily over her head, and she knew Robin knew it.

Because this was what Zelena did. She’d been happy to stick by them in Camelot for the sake of her unborn daughter, until Arthur had come along with a better offer. In the Underworld, she’d done the same thing – worked with them until she got her green mitts on Diane again, poofed off to her farmhouse and turned around only because she’d realised she couldn’t protect her daughter. And then again in Storybrooke, Zelena had no qualms about selling the town out to Hades – until realising that the Lord of the Underworld’s plans weren’t entirely in Zelena’s best interests, at which point she’d swung around again and come crawling back to Regina. And again, and again.

Regina swore for the third time, cursing her half-sister’s existence. Why did she keep doing thinking Zelena could change?

 _Because Snow did it for you,_ said an annoying part of her conscience that sounded entirely too like the fair princess’.

Regina shoved the voice aside. She did not need to be thinking like Snow White right now. She needed to be thinking like Regina Mills.

“Robin, I’m sorry,” she finally said, unable to look at him. In all honesty, she was a little surprised that he was still there. She didn’t know if it would be easier if he weren’t, but he was, and she needed to be Mayor Regina Mills – so she forged ahead. “I’m sorry. You were right.”

 _Just leave,_ she begged him silently. _Get angry. Yell, scream, storm out._

Because anger she knew how to handle. But the silence continued.

“She hasn’t changed,” she continued in a small voice. “She never changed. All she did was change sides. She doesn’t _want_ to change. Not for me. Not for Diane.”

Robin’s feet landed softly on the kitchen floor. _Good,_ Regina thought. _He’s going. He’ll leave, and he won’t come back, just as he should have done –_

He hugged her.

“I’m sorry you lost your sister,” he murmured in her ear, his arms wrapped around her from behind. He didn’t smell like forest anymore – rather, he smelt like he hadn’t showered in several days, and Regina almost told him that she wouldn’t kiss him until he’d brushed his teeth. Then she remembered the fact that this was the closest they had been in _months_ , and she couldn’t bear to let him go. She turned around to hug him back. It gave her a good view of the living room. She had to hide her face in his neck because angry tears stung her eyes.

“I didn’t lose my sister,” she growled, fists clenching despite the burn in her knuckles. “You can’t lose something you never had.”

 _And I never had a sister,_ Regina added silently. Not really. Families put each other first, fought for each other even at the risk of death – a kind of love that could survive the hottest fires of hell and come out stronger. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Gideon and Gabrielle had been made to go through. All she knew was that she and Zelena would never share the bond that they did. For whatever reason, it just wasn’t possible. She realised that now.

“Hey,” said Robin, disentangling himself from her embrace – though he held onto her arms, squeezing tight. “We’ll get her back. We’ll get our girl back.”

 _Diane_. He was talking about Diane, Regina realised. The knife rammed into her belly again, tearing at the old wounds. She’d been such an idiot. Blinded by the faint possibility of having a real flesh-and-blood sister – somebody who could make up for all of Cora’s failings, the love her mother had denied her to her dying breath – Regina had forgotten who was really important. And it wasn’t Zelena.

It never was.

“We will,” she affirmed, squeezing Robin’s arms in turn. She’d done him so wrong these past months, Regina couldn’t imagine there was any chance that he might forgive her. But whether he did or did not wasn’t important – Diane and Roland’s lives were.

Regina swore she would not forget that again.

\-------------------

After Snow and Emma had left, Rumplestiltskin remained downstairs while Belle and Gideon finished packing up what they wanted to take from the apartment. It was really more Belle’s space than Rumplestiltskin’s, and he didn’t want to intrude. He also did not trust himself to hold his temper – and that was the last thing he wanted his boy to witness.

So he busied himself by shelving the books left out and forgotten the day that the twins were born. Just to have something productive to do, an activity to occupy his hands with, something tactile amidst the surrealistic nature of his current reality –

His hands tingled as he reached the children’s section, an old tell he had mastered as a boy. _He was not alone._

Rumplestiltskin instantly called up a myriad of defensive spells to the tip of his tongue; damn him to hell if he let whatever trap the Charmings had left for him catch him by surprise –

It wasn’t a trap. That caught him by surprise.

“ _Henry?_ ” he exclaimed as he came around the shelf, quickly dissipating the magic before he lost control of it. The boy jumped as well, upsetting his backpack which caused chocolate bars to spill all over the floor. “What are you doing here?”

A moment after the question left his mouth, Rumplestiltskin registered Henry’s surroundings. The children’s book-boxes had been moved and the lumpy old blue sofa (he didn’t understand why Belle didn’t replace that thing) shifted into a corner with bean-bags piled around it to make a nest. An opened sleeping bag lay in the middle with Henry’s school books laid out across it, along with a loaf of bread, three cans of soft drink, a water bottle, flashlight, the multi-purpose pocketknife Robin had given him for his thirteenth birthday and, most alarmingly, a Greyhound bus schedule.

“You’re running away,” Rumplestiltskin said before he could stop himself.

“Don’t make me go home,” Henry all but begged, looking like he was about to bolt the moment he saw an opening. “I don’t want to go home. Please don’t make me go home!”

Rumplestiltskin raised both hands, palms facing outwards. Had Henry overheard the conversation – such as it was – between him and his maternal grandmother? Probably not; the boy would not have been able to abstain from interfering if he had. “Hey. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. Just tell me – what are you doing here?”

“Because I couldn’t – I couldn’t go home,” said Henry, hugging himself tightly. “They’ll – they’ll be there and I can’t – I tried to call Mom but she didn’t answer –”

“‘Mum’ as in ‘Regina’?” Rumplestiltskin asked for clarity. Henry nodded; Rumplestiltskin knew Snow had tried to call Regina about an hour ago. She must have shut her phone off after that.

“Rumple?”

“Back here,” he answered his wife.

“Henry?” said Belle in the same way Rumplestiltskin had a minute ago when she came in and saw the boy. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Belle,” said Henry. He grabbed his backpack and started to shove things in it, starting with the candy bars and bus schedule. “I’ll go –”

“No,” said Rumplestiltskin. He grabbed Henry’s hand to stop him from packing the flashlight, forcing the boy to look at him. “No, Henry, we can’t let you sleep on a park bench tonight. Regina is at her home right now. Come back with us.”

He had a suspicion he knew precisely what Henry did not want to return home to. Gods help Emma once Regina realised that the situation had almost driven their shared son to run away from Storybrooke, _again._

“Come on, Henry,” said Belle, reaching out a gentle hand. He blinked and looked blankly at both of them in turn before he nodded and swung his bag over his shoulders.

“Good boy,” said Rumplestiltskin. “Gideon?” he called to his son, who was waiting for them by the returns counter with a couple of books tucked under his arm. “This is Henry. Henry, this is Gideon.”

“Hello,” said Henry. “Who are you?”

“He’s a story that is far too long right now,” said Rumplestiltskin. He didn’t know what the rest of Henry’s family had told him, but explaining who Gideon was meant he’d have to tell Henry what his birth mother and maternal grandparents had done. What they _were_ doing.

Gideon, on his part, stared silently at Henry like something alien he was trying to puzzle out. It didn’t help that Henry had stuck out a hand for him to shake.

“Uh, hello,” he responded after several seconds, watching the proffered hand like he was afraid it would bite him.

 _So much explaining to do,_ Rumplestiltskin thought wearily.

“Come on,” he said in lieu of having anything better to say. “Are you ready to go back?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Gideon, still watching Henry. The younger boy had picked up on it, and he held his school books in front of him like a protective shield. “Is – is it alright if I stay for a minute? I can get back to the house by myself.”

“Of course.” Rumplestiltskin understood. This was Gideon’s first experience of a normal life – it wasn’t quite the same thing, but it made Rumplestiltskin think of his first few days in Storybrooke after waking up from his Mr Gold persona. Gideon was going through a period of adjustment; naturally, it would take some time. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

“Bye,” said Belle, giving Gideon a hug. Her standing with him sitting put them at almost equal height, which Rumplestiltskin found amusing.

Before this was over, they were going to need all the laughs they could get.

* * *

 

Emma had told her mother to go home without her, that she would call Snow from her house at five o’clock. It was now half past five and Emma’s phone lay on the passenger seat of the yellow bug with three missed messages in ten minutes. She had her keys in the ignition, but the engine was off. The phone rang for the fourth time. She still couldn’t answer it.

Her hands had been shaking non-stop since the confrontation with Belle and Gold in the library. Nothing Emma did could still the tremors – stuffing her hands in her pockets, punching a wall, not even gripping the steering wheel so tight that her fingers went numb. And the feeling had spread. Her heart pounded, it hurt to breathe, and her eyes wouldn’t focus on any one aspect of her surroundings. A sharp pain bit at the centre of her chest, and she felt like she had a fever.

_What the hell is happening to me?_

With trembling hands she could barely control, she somehow managed to open the car door and stumble out. What little remained of her rational brain screamed at her not to drive, and that sounded like a good idea, so Emma obeyed it. There was a chance she could get to Granny’s if she could figure out where she was – assuming she didn’t trip over her own feet or run into a light pole or something –

“Emma.”

She froze at the sound of Gideon’s voice. He was less than three feet away, standing in a patch of sunlight. She hadn’t heard him approach or felt the tingle she always associated with magic. Sneaky bastard.

“If you’re here to finish what you started – ”

“Why did you keep this?” he asked, holding up a small chain that glinted in the sun. Emma started, a wave of anger rising. It was her key chain, the one she’d given to Henry.

“Where the _hell_ did you get that?”

“It’s not important.”

“Like hell. What did you to do to my son?!”

“Nothing. I’ll give it back. But I asked you a question – why did you keep it?”

She lunged for the necklace; Gideon lifted it out of her reach and then slipped it into his pocket.

“Give it back.”

“Who did it belong to before your son?”

“I said give it –”

“Neal,” said Gideon, and Emma stopped mid-sentence.

“How do you –?”

He shivered and his eyes unfocused like he was in the middle of a daydream. “It belonged to Neal. Your son’s father. Not Captain Hook,” he said airily. Emma took a step back. This was weird. “Your son’s father is not Captain Killian Jones, but a man named Neal Cassidy. Yes?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“He’s dead.”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“Why did you keep the pendant?” Gideon asked as his eyes refocused. She didn’t answer him. “I know you saw him on your journey to the Underworld. What did he tell you?”

“What?! How could you know about that?”

“I See things,” he answered with a shrug, as if were the most obvious thing in the world. “What did he say to you?”

She took another step back. “I am not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not? You care about him.”

“He came to say goodbye!” Emma shouted, the noise scaring a couple of finches that had been nesting in a nearby hedge. “Is that what you want to hear?!”

But Gideon shook his head. “No, it was more than that. He gave you a warning.”

Brown eyes glazed over again, staring blankly at the wall of what Emma now realised was the cannery.

“He told you that bringing Captain Hook back from the dead would have consequences you wouldn’t understand,” he said after a moment of silence.

Emma paled. “How the hell do you –?”

“I told you; I See things,” said Gideon. “It doesn’t seem to be confined to future events. But _is_ that what he told you?”

“I’m out of here.”

“Why did you bring the pirate back?” he demanded. Footsteps pounded on the pavement; he’d run after her. She managed to open her car door, only for Gideon to slam it shut again.

“What the hell kind of game is this?” she shouted, trying to push him away. Sadly, he was strong, and she couldn’t seem to make her hands do what she wanted them to do.

“Just answer the question,” he said softly. “Please. I need to know.”

“Fine! I brought him back because I love him! Are you happy now?”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are _you_ happy, Emma?” he repeated. His gaze trailed down – not like it had before – and came to rest on her left hand. It still shook, so she hid it behind her back, but the tremor wasn’t what had caught his attention.

“He asked you to marry him,” Gideon said with realisation. His eyes snapped back up to hers. “And you said yes. Because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do. But you’re not ready to marry him. You’re still in love with Neal.”

“Get the hell away from me.” Emma tried to sound intimidating, but it came out as an angry sob.

“What was it like when he was here?”

“What?”

“Do you love the pirate?”

“ _Why_ are you asking me so many questions?!”

“Why are you _avoiding_ the question?” asked Gideon. “I would think it’s a fairly simple one to answer.”

Emma ground her teeth, counted to three and then swung at him. It missed – he jumped backwards to dodge it – but had the needed effect of getting him away from the car, and she went straight for her handgun.

“I am not talking about this with you,” she said vehemently, holding the gun straight thought her hands continued to shake. Gideon backed off with his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Now either you get out of here right now, or I swear I will shoot you.”

Several seconds passed and nothing happened. He looked at her blankly, contemplating the gun with mild curiosity instead of terror as Emma had hoped. Then he clicked his fingers. She gripped the gun tighter, but taking it wasn’t his intention. Instead, a bottle appeared in his hand. Hook’s bottle.

Before she could say or do anything to stop him, Gideon had unstoppered the bottle and tipped it upside down. Gold smoke poured out of it, pooling by the bonnet of the car.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m giving your pirate back.”

“What? _Why?!_ ”

Gideon shrugged. “If you don’t want him back, I’ll be glad to put him in the bottle again.”

“No, that’s not what I –” she spluttered, looking from Gideon to the cloud – which had started to mould into the vague shape of a human – and back again. “I tried to kill you, and now you’re doing me a favour?”

He blinked at her like she was stupid. “No. We had a deal and you held up your end of the bargain,” he explained. “It wasn’t your fault things didn’t go the way I’d hoped.”

And with that, he turned around to leave. Emma couldn’t let him go without answers.

“Wait,” she called. He stopped, but didn’t look at her. “I don’t understand.”

Gideon glanced back without turning, his eyes on the ground. “Your tremors were a warning, Emma,” he answered calmly. “It’s happened before when the Fates deem a Saviour unworthy of their destiny and cut it away from them. I couldn’t figure out why they’d done it to you. Now I think I do.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she scoffed. “ _I’m_ the Saviour! I’m the one who’s supposed to bring back the happy endings!”

Then he did look at her, and it sent chills right down to her toes. “Well, you can tell them that all you like. I don’t think it’s going to change their minds.”

And then he walked away, leaving Emma unable to speak. Or think. Or do anything except stand there, blubbering like an idiot while Hook returned to normal size on the ground.

“Swan?” He groaned as he picked himself off the road; she couldn’t move to help him. “What happened? Where’s Gideon?”

“He’s gone,” she whispered.

“What?” Hook scrambled to his feet and reached for her; Emma pulled away. “You just _let him go_? What the bloody hell did you do that for? He’s gonna kill you! Swan –”

“Don’t touch me,” she demanded, unable to even look at him. He ignored the request.

“What happened?” he asked, squeezing her hand painfully.

Emma tugged herself out of his grip. “I said don’t touch me.”

“Swan –”

“Just – just leave me alone.”

“What did he do to you?”

“Nothing. I have to go.”

“Swan!” Hook shouted as Emma raced down the street with no idea where she was going or why. She just knew she had to run. “Swan, come back! SWAN!”

* * *

 

Belle kept the details to a minimum when she and Rumple got back to Regina’s house with Henry. All she said, on the quiet side while Henry put his things in his old bedroom, was that they found him camping in the library and he’d told them that he didn’t want to go home. It took all of two seconds for white-hot fury to flash across Regina’s face and she stormed upstairs. Rumple went with her.

It was an hour before they came back downstairs. Gabi was still asleep, so Belle occupied herself by checking on her little girl while Robin minded the spaghetti. The part of her that wasn’t scared Gabi wouldn’t make it through the night worried about Gideon. Where he was, what he was doing. She knew, intellectually, that he was a grown man capable of looking after himself. But the mother she was now couldn’t let go of that baby boy she’d had ripped from her arms four days ago.

It was almost a relief when Rumple came back to inform them that Regina wanted to talk to Henry alone, and she would be right down after that. Belle didn’t ask him what he’d said or how Henry had reacted. It wasn’t any of her business.

Finally, Regina came downstairs.

“Henry’s in the shower,” she said, picking up a tea towel and wringing it angrily. Belle didn’t have to ask if Rumple had told her what happened in the library. “He’s, uh – he says he’s okay.”

“Shock,” said Robin, but Regina shook her head.

“No. I think –” She paused to sigh and absent-mindedly wipe down a clean bench. “I think he wasn’t surprised at all.”

 _God,_ Belle thought, shutting her eyes. He was only thirteen. All a boy his age should be worried about was passing school, playing video games and crushing on girls – not scared that half of his family might kill the other.

Rumple came up beside her and gently held her. She leant into him like a support post.

“So.” Robin let out a long breath. “What’s the plan now?”

“I believe it’s safe to say that we’re on our own,” said Rumple with finality, looking down at Belle. His face remained unchanged except for the slightest twitch of his cheek muscle. “Snow is absolutely convinced she’s in the right; she’s blind to any other logic. And Charming is just following behind her.”

“Sounds about right,” Regina agreed bitterly.

“I don’t get it,” Belle growled, bile stinging the back of her throat. “For as long as I’ve known them, they’ve always been about standing up for what’s right, listening when people need them. _Helping_ when it’s asked of them. What’s changed?”

“It’s Blue,” said Regina, throwing the towel down angrily. She paused, then looked at Rumple. “Ever since we came back from New York, she’s been insisting that you’re too dangerous to be let loose around town. She wanted to lock you up in the mines again.” Then she glanced at Belle with what was clearly shame. “It was her idea to speed up your pregnancy too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Belle murmured. “You couldn’t have stopped them.”

Regina just shrugged and carried on. “Blue’s got them eating out of the palm of her hand. I don’t think they’d recognise the truth if it showed up naked at their front door dancing the samba.”

“It’s not just the Blue Fairy, Gina,” said Robin. She frowned at him, so he elaborated; “They had this in them. You just didn’t want to see it.”

“None of us did,” Belle added. Once again, all Regina did was shrug.

“Well, it is what it is.”

“Fucked up.”

Three pairs of eyes turned on Belle in surprise. She didn’t swear that often – she just didn’t see the point. But “Gosh-golly, what a pickle!” didn’t seem to cover this.

“Fucked up,” Rumple agreed after a moment.

* * *

 

Gideon didn’t return immediately to the big white house where Regina lived. Hundreds of images – some memories, some dreams, and things that danced out of reach every time he focused on them too much – raced in front of his eyes as he walked away from his conversation with Emma. None of it made much sense, but it didn’t seem important either.

His papa was a Seer too, apparently. Gideon decided to ask him about it later.

In the meantime, he took a walk around the grey building with the big letters that read ‘CANNERY’ (whatever that meant) until he found a quiet spot near some hedges where he could see the street, but nobody would see him if they didn’t know he was there. And he thought.

He thought about the pirate, and about Emma Swan and Snow White, and the man named Neal Cassidy, whose face remained a blur though Gideon knew he was important somehow. Maybe his papa had known him. He added that to the list of questions to ask Rumplestiltskin when he had the chance.

When he felt as though he could concentrate well enough to teleport, he returned to the house. A warm sensation washed over him as the wards let him through – his papa and Regina had done something to make sure anybody who wasn’t the mayor, Gideon’s parents and sister, or the outlaw named Robin Hood, couldn’t enter without permission. Gideon landed in the small room off the big one that had all the sofas and animal statues in it – he thought they might be horses like in the book, but he wasn’t sure. He heard voices – Regina’s, Robin’s and his papa’s – in the kitchen. Something about dinner. They were obviously busy, so Gideon decided not to bother them. So he went into the sofa room instead.

He left the shiny pendant with the bird-shape on one of the thin tables with drawers under it. He’d recognised it as the object from one of his visions – the thing he had thought would convince the Saviour to help them – the moment he saw it hanging from Henry’s neck in the library. Gideon had no idea what it was, or why it was important to Emma and her son, but he did know that it was the only thing Henry had of his father’s. Gideon didn’t want to take that from him, so he left it on the table for the boy to find later. Hopefully he would think he just misplaced it.

In any case, the pendant hadn’t done what Gideon had hoped it would. Emma wasn’t the Saviour he had come to Storybrooke to find. He knew that now.

“Hey,” murmured the gentle voice of his mama, who had just walked into the room. She hadn’t seen him yet; she carried an armful of fluffy blankets to the sofa where Gabi was. “Got you some more blankets.”

Belle did look a lot like Gabrielle. Except the eyes. Gideon and his sister both had brown eyes like their papa’s.

_I wonder why that is._

“There,” said Mama - he could finally call her that without blinding pain behind his eyes - tucking the blankets around Gabi’s little frame. “You warm enough?”

“Yeah,” said Gabi. She pulled the top blanket up to her chin. “I think so. What’s that?”

“Hmm?”

Gabi pointed. Gideon looked – it was the box of things their mama had brought down from the house above the library, and on top was that odd-looking fluffy brown animal that Mama had been cuddling.

“Oh, this?” Mama grabbed it. “It’s, uh, it’s called a teddy bear. You cuddle it. Like this. See?”

She put the teddy bear in the crook of Gabi’s arm and then placed the other arm over it.

“I was – I mean I – I was gonna give it to you, uh, when you were a baby but then –”

“Thanks, Mum.”

Even from behind, Gideon knew his mother was smiling. He didn’t know how. He just did.

“ _Are you gonna hide there for the rest of the night?”_ said Gabi’s voice in his head, which made Gideon smile. Ever since their papa put his heart back in its proper place, he’d been able to hear Gabi’s voice again. The Black Fairy must have stopped him from talking to her in any way, including telepathically.

“Hey, Mum,” he said gently, but it still made her jump. Gabi wasn’t surprised. She’d known he was there. He dropped down next to the sofa. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm. Better.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Mama, getting up.

“Okay. Thanks, Mum.”

She smiled as she left. It really was a pretty smile, in Gideon’s opinion.

“You look just like her,” he told his sister, remembering the conversation they’d had when they were thirteen – wondering if they looked anything like their parents.

Gabi chuckled and grinned, though he knew it hurt her to do that. Arachnid venom caused the muscles to seize up, even in small doses, and if the victim survived the bites then it would hurt them to breathe for quite some time afterwards, Gideon remembered the Black Fairy telling him one day. She’d thought it was funny; he still didn’t agree.

“They’re not gonna help us,” said Gabi bitterly, turning her head to look at him. “Are they?”

With their mind connection restored, she already knew what happened in the library. So Gideon just shook his head sadly.

“No.”

“You gave up your heart for me.”

He didn’t ask her how she knew that. Gideon shut his eyes. He remembered how guilty he’d felt when his papa told Snow White the idea was ridiculous; the same guilt gripped him again and made his chest hurt.

“Gabi, I’m sorry.” He sniffled and tried to hold in the tears, but failed. The Black Fairy used to hit him for crying. All his papa had done was hug him. Maybe crying wasn’t a bad thing after all. Either way, Gideon didn’t think he could stop. “I thought – I thought the worst thing she could do with it was kill me. I didn’t – I didn’t know what she would make me do. I’m sorry. I let her take control of me –”

“Not your fault,” said Gabi. She said it with such certainty that he almost believed her. Then she squeezed his hand. He hadn’t even realised she was holding it.

“I’m still sorry.”

“We need a new plan.”

He looked down at their intertwined hands. Pragmatic. Gideon liked that word – ‘pragmatic’. It was what Gabi was. At least, all through this, he’d had her. Even the Black Fairy hadn’t been able to take that away. Gideon couldn’t think what that plan might be, or what it would look like, but he knew he and his sister could work it out. They’d survived this long, and now they had their mama and papa to help them.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small grin. “We do.”

* * *

 

Later that night, Rumplestiltskin tucked a blanket around his sleeping son. The twins had fallen asleep holding hands, with Gabi on the sofa and Gideon in a little nest he’d made from armchair cushions and a throw rug on the floor beside her. Rumplestiltskin couldn’t imagine it was very comfortable, especially since Gideon’s length far exceeded that of his nest, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake the boy. After the day he’d had – the _life_ he’d had – Gideon deserved a good night’s sleep. So did Gabi.

Rumplestiltskin may or may not have slipped a sleeping draught into their water to ensure that, but it wasn’t important.

“Goodnight,” he murmured. The twins slept on.

“They look so peaceful,” said Belle. Rumplestiltskin looked at her, leaning tiredly against the wall, and smiled. She was right. Decades of pain and anger seemed to melt from their children’s faces as they breathed in and out evenly – in Gabi’s case, that was a particularly good sign – and he could see the wee babies he and his wife had brought into the world once more.

“They do,” Rumplestiltskin agreed. He brushed some frayed strands away from Gideon’s face, then stood up and went to hold his wife, who started crying. Now that the day was done, and there was no need to fight anymore, the emotions they’d all suppressed for four days demanded attention. Once Henry went to bed, Regina had gone upstairs with Robin. The part of Rumplestiltskin that had always thought of her like the daughter he’d been cheated out of sincerely hoped she and Robin could patch things up. If he and Belle could do it, then anybody could. But that was between her and the outlaw; right now, he had his own True Love to worry about.

“I remember that I told you once, heroes don’t run,” Belle said with her head on his chest, facing the twins so she didn’t have to take her eyes off them. “They stood and faced their problems, no matter the cost.”

“I remember,” was all Rumplestiltskin said.

“And now they’re here, home with us, and all I wanna do is run,” she admitted with a sniffle. She started crying again; he held her even closer. “Run far, far away from here, somewhere she can never hurt them again. I don’t think I even care what that might mean for the rest of the town. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No,” he answered immediately. How could she even think that? “Of course it doesn’t. It makes you a mother.”

She didn’t respond. Rumplestiltskin sighed and gently pushed her out of his embrace so she’d have to look at him.

“Belle, they are so lucky to have you,” he told her, firm and gentle at the same time. And he meant it.

She sniffled again and looked at the floor while she wiped her eyes. “I don’t want to leave them alone down here.”

He nodded. Regina had offered them the guest room. But frankly, Rumplestiltskin didn’t want to be so far from the twins either. They’d spent enough time apart. So he made a mattress from one of the armchairs that Gideon had de-cushioned and conjured blankets, sheets and pillows from the room they were supposed to be using. Then he and Belle lay down to sleep, him spooning her so that they were both facing the twins.

There was still a fight to come, Rumplestiltskin hadn’t forgotten that. But for now, he just slept, protected by the warmth of his wife by his side and the sound of his children breathing less than three feet away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part XIV: a plan to battle the Black Fairy is put into motion, Gideon plays the double agent, Regina rallies the town, and the twins see their first sunrise
> 
> I’d just like to say, for the record, that I freely admit I’m probably treating the Charmings (well, maybe just David) with more contempt than they really deserve, but I do believe (unfortunately) that their behaviour in s6 can’t be blamed on bad writing as much as I’d like – I really do believe that they had it in them to do exactly what they did, and it pissed me off to no end. So I’m venting a little. I admit that.
> 
> NOTICE: I am taking a hiatus from posting and from social media until the end of September to focus on school. I’ll be making one update on 19/20 August (dates are funny when you live in different time zones!) for Rumbelle Summer Vacation – look for that! – but will be otherwise incommunicado. See you in September!


	14. Part XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting back after far too long! Thanks guys for your patience!

Belle felt like she was being enveloped in a soft, warm cocoon. She snuggled deeper into the warmth, the scent of freshly laundered cotton and old books tickling her nose, and ignored the sunlight on her eyelids that urged her to wake, to start the day. No, she was comfy where she was. Well, the mattress was a little lumpy; there was a spring in exactly the wrong spot, putting pressure on her shoulder, a warm breeze intermittenly blew on the back of her neck, and there was a weight of some sort draped across her midrift and cuddling her belly –

“Morning.”

She groaned. At least the person had the decency to not be chirpy. She might have given them a harsh word if they had.

“I made porridge, if you’re interested,” the person continued. Now that they mentioned it, Belle could smell honey and oats, and her stomach growled treacherously. “Should get it before it’s cold. Or Henry eats it, whichever comes first.”

_Henry. Library. Twins._

The events of the past twenty-four hours suddenly caught up to her in one long flash, and Belle remembered where she was. Not the manor in her own bed, but a conjured mattress on the floor of Regina’s living room. She opened her eyes to see Robin reclining in an armchair with his breakfast bowl balanced on his stomach and the television remote in his hand. He’d turned the TV to a kids’ cartoon network, but thankfully had it muted with the subtitles on.

“Wha’ time is it?” Belle asked groggily. She carefully slid out of bed so as not to wake Rumple, then sat on the floor rubbing her eyes.

“Almost six o’clock,” said Robin. “How’d you sleep?”

“Better than I expected.”

“Yeah, me too. Regina’s in the shower; she’ll be down soon, I reckon –”

“Where’re the twins?”

Robin broke off with the spoon almost at his mouth. His eyes drifted to the couch, where there was a wrinkled blanket and three pillows piled up on one end. The duvet Rumple had laid across Gideon last night was gone, and so were the twins.

* * *

 

It was still cold up on the roof of Regina’s house. Gideon was grateful that Gabi had thought to bring the blanket. It wasn’t quite big enough to wrap around them both – Gideon’s long legs stuck out from underneath – but it was still easily the warmest piece of material he’d ever had. And it didn’t hurt that this was the closest he’d ever been to his sister that wasn’t part of a dream.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gabi murmured, looking out at the sunrise illuminating the horizon.

“It sure is,” said Gideon.

The descriptions in _Her Handsome Hero_ painted a pretty picture, but didn’t do the real thing justice. It couldn’t capture the warmth he felt on his nose and cheeks as the sun continued to rise, or how the cold prickled on his skin like it was trying to fight back the heat. The book hadn’t mentioned the noise of a town waking from sleep, like the blue vehicle a few streets over delivering white bottles to people’s houses, or the _ding-ding_ of a two-wheeled contraption ridden by a fellow in a bright red helmet throwing rolls of paper onto their front lawns. There was a lot Gideon had to learn about this world. He couldn’t think what to ask first.

 _When she’s gone, we’ll have all the time in the world,_ he told himself for the tenth time. And to reassure himself one last time, he hugged his sister just a little closer.

She was still so pale and weak. The cold couldn’t possibly be good for her. Perhaps their adventure wasn’t such a good idea after all, but she had wanted to see the sun so badly and Gideon hadn’t had the heart to refuse her –

“Gabi?” the voice of their mother suddenly called up the stairs, sounding frantic. “Gideon?”

“Up here, Mum,” Gideon called.

A few seconds later, Mama appeared at the window. A look of relief washed over her face when she saw them.

“It’s alright, Rumple, they’re out on the balcony.”

“Oh, thank gods,” Gideon heard his papa reply.

“What are you doing out here?” Mama asked, climbing out of the window to join them on what was apparently called the ‘balcony’, not the ‘roof’. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Well, yes, but –” Gideon stammered. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. Were they in trouble? Was she worried about them? Both? Should he make up a story or tell her the truth? What happened if she thought it was stupid? What if he had broken a rule he hadn’t known about? Would she shut him in a room, yell at him, force him to hurt somebody –?

“We’ve never seen a sunrise before,” said Gabi.

 _How can she be so calm?_ Gideon wondered, holding his breath as he waited for whatever happened next.

“Oh,” said Mama, as if the statement came at a surprise. She bit her lip and was quiet for a whole second. Anxious thoughts continued to race across Gideon’s brain – “Do you mind if I join you?”

 _Wait, what? She wants to_ join _us?_

“Okay,” he blurted before he could really think about it.

Mama smiled a sweet smile, then sat down on Gideon’s other side. She shivered, so he extended the blanket for her.

“Thank you.”

_That’s it? No shouting, no telling-offs, no punishment –_

_“You think too much,”_ Gabi interrupted, throwing him a wry look.

 _Yeah, I really do,_ Gideon agreed. He shook the thoughts from his mind and went back to watching the sunrise with his mother and sister.

* * *

 

Breakfast was an energetic affair. The twins, now that they no longer had the looming threat of the Black Fairy hanging over their heads, finally had a chance to explore the world they had been born in, and discovered it was much more frightening than it first appeared. Gideon received a terrible fright when the landline rang – a telemarketer, whom Regina promptly cut off – and spent most of breakfast discussing how a refrigerator worked with Robin and Henry. Gabi was especially interested in the mechanics of the microwave oven; when breakfast was over, Belle went with her to demonstrate the shower operations. Rumplestiltskin smiled and left them to it. He stayed downstairs to finish off the last of the washing up.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” said Robin, sitting at the kitchen table with Gideon. Rumplestiltskin listened in while he scrubbed the frying pan. “The Black Fairy goes to all this trouble to kidnap you and your sister, then steals your heart to trick you into using Emma to open a portal that lets her leave the Dark Realm permanently after the Blue Fairy trapped her there for hundreds of years. Have I got it right so far?”

“I think so,” said Gideon.

“Well, what the hell for?”

“Sorry?”

“I meant, what does the Black Fairy want in this world?” Robin clarified.

“Honestly?” said Gideon with a small shake of his head. “I have no idea.”

“The Saviour _is_ supposedly the only person capable of killing her,” Rumplestiltskin suggested.

“Yeah, that’s my point,” said Robin. “If the Saviour really is the only person who can kill her, then why come to the very realm where the Saviour is?”

To which Rumplestiltskin shrugged. “There must be something else here that she wants.”

“Which is what?”

“You expect me to know?”

Robin huffed and rolled his eyes, then looked back at Gideon. “You’re sure she never told you anything? Even anything that could give us a clue?”

“I swear if I knew, I’d tell you,” said Gideon. “Even before the rebellion failed, she never really trusted me with much information.”

“Bugger. A villain with brains.” Robin leant back in his chair and muttered under his breath. “I’d say it’s just what we needed, but then we haven’t run into too many of the smart ones.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

“What she wants from this world is not what we need to be concerned about,” said Rumplestiltskin. He hung the dishrag out to dry, pulled the plug and then sat down at the table with his son and Robin. “We need to be focused on how to get her _out_ of this world.”

“You got a suggestion?” asked Robin cockily. “Because I think we’ve established that Emma isn’t going to help us.”

“Currently, she is injured and weak,” said Rumplestiltskin, ignoring the outlaw’s comment. “That gives us a window of opportunity.”

“To do what? We can’t kill her.”

“There might be another way,” said Gideon.

Rumplestiltskin looked at him. “How?”

“It’s her idea.”

A voice rang down from the stairs. “We send her back to the Dark Realm.”

Gabi hobbled into view, slightly out of breath but appearing far healthier than she had the night before. Belle was right behind, a hand outstretched as if ready to catch her the moment anything went wrong, and Regina a few steps above them. Rumplestiltskin frowned, taking in his daughter’s attire. She’d borrowed a shirt and pants from Regina, which were rolled up at the hems, revealing the dirty old sneakers, but the grey hoodie and jacket looked like they belonged to Henry.

“Should you be on your feet?” asked Robin.

“No,” answered Gideon.

“Well, I don’t have a choice but to be on my feet,” said Gabi. She did, however, take a chair and sit. A significant amount of colour returned to her cheeks within a second. “It won’t take her as long as me to recover from the arachnid venom. We don’t have much time.”

Still standing, Regina cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I think I heard you wrong; did you say you want to send the Black Fairy _back_ to the Dark Realm?”

“Yes.”

“Like I said,” Gideon murmured, “her idea.”

“In what world is that a good plan?” Regina carried on as if he hadn’t said anything.

“We can’t kill her without the Saviour,” said Gabi, “and Robin’s right; it’s pretty clear now that Emma isn’t going to help us. That leaves us with one alternative – we send her back to the Dark Realm.”

“Couldn’t she just break out again?” asked Belle.

“Not necessarily.” Rumplestiltskin shifted as Gabi looked at him. “Papa, is there a way to permanently isolate one realm from all the rest?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“The Blue Fairy trapped … _her_ , in the Dark Realm hundreds of years ago, supposedly as a punishment of some sort,” Gabi explained. “Don’t ask me why – I don’t know. But the point is, whatever the Blue Fairy did wasn’t permanent. She found a way to slip through the gaps. It only lasted minutes at a time, but clearly that was enough until she got hold of Emma’s blood and used it to break the spell completely. Now she’s free, but if we can figure out what the Blue Fairy did and somehow stop her from breaking free again –”

“She’d be trapped forever,” Belle finished with dawning realisation.

“Exactly.”

Robin and Regina still looked doubtful. “How the hell do you suggest we do that?” asked Regina.

“We get the Blue Fairy’s wand,” said Rumplestiltskin, the pieces of his twins’ plan coming together in his mind. They must have spent the night in their dreamworld again, plotting and planning … they were his children, without a doubt. “With it, I could recreate the spell she used to banish the Black Fairy.”

“And to stop her from breaking out again?” said Robin.

“Well, that part’s trickier,” said Gideon. “ _We’d_ have to go back to the Dark Realm.”

Now it was Rumplestiltskin’s turn to be confused. “Beg pardon?” he chorused with Belle, Robin and Regina.

“She uses the dark fairy dust to reach into other realms,” Gideon told them. It was news to Rumplestiltskin, but he made a motion for Gideon to continue. “I’ve seen her do it. We’d have to go back to the Dark Realm, destroy her supply of dust and shut down the mines so she can’t get any more. We can free the other children trapped there at the same time.”

“You want to go _back_ to that place?” Belle asked incredulously.

“It’s the only way, Mum,” said Gabi. “If we want to trap her for good, we’ve got to make sure she has no power whatsoever in the Dark Realm. The dust was how she did it. Without it, she’ll be stuck.”

“I can seal the barrier between our world and hers,” said Rumplestiltskin, but the twins both shook their heads.

“We have to be sure, Papa,” said Gideon.

“Okay, let’s assume that everyone’s onboard with this _bloody_ insane plan,” said Robin. “Problem number one; you said that the Black Fairy destroyed the portal to the Dark Realm. How are you going to get there?”

“I can make another portal with Blue’s wand,” said Rumplestiltskin.

“Oh.” Robin grunted and cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, there’s still problem number two; how are you going to get Blue’s wand?”

“We’ll ask nicely,” said Regina. “If it doesn’t work, I believe I have a jar around here that she should fit in.”

Robin turned to her with a look of astonishment. “You’re onboard with this?”

“Not quite yet.” Regina looked at the twins. “First, I want to know how you plan to resolve problem number three; how do we stop the Black Fairy from finding out what we’re up to and stopping us?”

“I’ll go back to her and make sure she doesn’t,” said Gideon.

Once again, everyone except the twins wore a look of surprise.

“You’ll what?” asked Robin.

“I’ll find her, convince her that I’ve come back to serve her willingly, and keep her distracted long enough for the plan to work,” Gideon explained. “Now that she no longer has my heart, she can’t control me. Gabi and I can stay in constant contact, so you’ll know where she is at all times and what she’s doing.”

“Gideon,” said Belle slowly, “are you sure about this?”

He nodded. “She won’t get the better of me twice, Mum.”

“More to the point,” said Regina, “why would she believe you?”

“Because she wants to,” said Gideon with a shrug. “And because I plan to tell her that Gabi died after Papa failed to save her from the arachnid venom, and I hate him for letting her die.”

“A tad morbid,” said Robin.

Gideon frowned. “I – I don’t know what that means.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Belle interrupted. “We can’t go to the Dark Realm right now. If we do, we’ll effectively be leaving Storybrooke completely unprotected from the Black Fairy. Who’s to say how long we’ll be gone? Gabi said it – it won’t take her long to recover from the venom.”

“Then we won’t all go,” said Rumplestiltskin. “You and I can go to the Dark Realm with the twins while Robin and Regina stay here and … keep her busy.”

“Thanks for the rousing endorsement,” Regina drawled.

But Robin shook his head at the plan. “No; I’m going to the Dark Realm with you.”

“Robin –” Belle started.

“My son and daughter are stuck in that hell-world, the same as yours were,” Robin reiterated stubbornly. “I’m going to go and get them back, Black Fairy be damned.”

“Robin, I promise we’ll get Roland and Diane back. We’ll bring them _all_ back, but someone has to stay here –”

“Not me! They’re my _kids_ –!”

“Wait,” said Gabi suddenly, making Robin and Belle turn to her with an expression of ‘ _what?’_ “Roland is your son?”

Robin hesitated at her tone. “Yeah.”

Rumplestiltskin’s stomach twisted at the look the twins shared. Amongst everything else that had happened, he had to admit that he’d forgotten about the fate of the outlaw’s boy. He was pretty sure that he could hear Robin’s heart drop as the poor man’s face fell in disbelief. Rumplestiltskin knew that look. He’d seen it in the mirror every morning after Bae died –

“I’m sorry,” Gideon murmured without meeting Robin’s gaze.

The chair scraped as Robin sat down slowly, moving as though the air around him had turned to quicksand. There was a pregnant pause in which nobody seemed to know what to do or say. Eventually Belle reached out for her friend, hesitatingly placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and then Regina broke the silence.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll call Granny,” she proposed haltingly. “Get … get in touch with the dwarves and the … the school. We can start rounding people up. Tell them what’s going on. Evacuate the town.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Rumplestiltskin. “Spread the word. They won’t have to go far; even to the town line will mean that they’re out of harm’s way. We can bring them all back once we’re done.”

“Yeah,” Regina murmured. “Sounds like a plan.”

There was another pause. Gideon shuffled his foot and then whispered in Rumplestiltskin’s ear, “Should … should I not have told him?”

“No, son. Trust me, it’s better that he knows now. You did the right thing.”

Gideon did not look assured. Rumplestiltskin shook his head and wordlessly motioned for him to stay silent. They still had a fairy to banish, after all.

* * *

 

The wind blowing across the bay was cold and icy, kicked up by huge waves of white, frothy water. There were no birds to be seen against the flat, grey sky, and the shore was a line of dull, lifeless rocks that stretched as far as the eye could see. Apart from the weather-worn fisherman’s shack that stood above the water at the end of a rickety jetty, Gideon considered his first beach to be something of a disappointment.

 _“Keep talking to me at all times,”_ said Gabi, who was ten miles away in the back of Papa’s car headed for the fairy convent. _“The second she starts to doubt you –”_

 _Get out of here,_ he replied. _I know!_

With a deep breath, he pushed on the door of the shack. It opened with a bone-chilling creak, revealing a room so dark that Gideon was surprised it didn’t lunge up and swallow him whole. He took one step forwards …

_Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack –_

“Now, now, my dear, no need to frighten the poor boy,” uttered the voice of his nightmares. Gideon gulped and tried not to shiver. He was stronger than this!

He looked the arachnid in the largest of its shiny black eyes, which he could see only because it stood out from the darkness as a patch of even darker darkness. It clacked its mandibles once more and then backed off into the shadows.

“What are you doing here, Gideon?”

He swallowed and kept his voice level. “I came to find you … Mother.”

The shadows to his left rustled as the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. The air was like an obsidian knife, cutting deep into Gideon’s soul. She was searching him …

“Did you, now?”

“Of course.”

And then there was a flash of light. Gideon shielded his face and blinked until his eyes adjusted. The Black Fairy held the lit match aloft next to the lamp.

“Your heart has been returned to you.”

“Yes.” Gideon absent-mindedly raised a hand to his chest. “I put it back when I found that my sister had stolen it from you.”

“And yet you’ve come back to me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

If he’d been hoping that the venom had done any lasting damage, Gideon was quickly disappointed. Her use of the match indicated that she was still weak and thus conserving her magic, but any outward signs of damage were long gone.

“Gabrielle is dead,” he said through a clenched throat. “My father tried to save her, but there was nothing he could do.”

She remained silent for a several seconds. Gideon did not move.

“I’m sorry, Gideon, I truly am,” said the Black Fairy. Her words were convincing, and they bore into Gideon’s brain, _insisting_ that he believe them. But no amount of magic could hide the glee in her eyes. “Had Gabrielle been anything other than what she was, I would have gladly allowed the two of you to be together. But she was too much like her mother. A corrupting influence.”

“I hate them,” Gideon spat before he accidentally said anything in defence of his sister or mother. “The – the so-called _heroes_. I – I was stupid to think that they could help me. And now they’ve killed my sister.”

“Yes,” the Black Fairy murmured like a breath of wind. She glided forwards until she was less than a foot away, black cloak sweeping the floor of the shack without a sound, and laid a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. Somehow, he managed to not flinch at her touch. “Yes, they did.”

“I want them to pay,” he said. It was hardly a lie.

“They will, my dear boy.” She smiled and patted his shoulder, for all the world a caring mother. A really evil caring mother who liked to tear the legs off grasshoppers before throwing them in the fireplace. “They will. I promise you.”

 _“Gideon?”_ Gabi called. _“What’s going on? Gideon!”_

The Black Fairy stepped away. Gideon allowed himself to breathe.

_I’m still here._

* * *

 

The diner was packed, almost to the point of overflow. To make room, the dwarves were sitting on top of tables, and Tinkerbell was perched on the counter next to Alan a’Dale. Everybody was on edge; though they all spoke quietly, their combined voices carried through to the kitchen with ease. Regina listened without much interest.

Robin stood by the sink with his elbow and forehead resting on the wall. He hadn’t moved in five minutes. Stuck in the pantry directly opposite him were eight knives, six darts, three forks and a potato peeler. Granny was going to want some major renovations when this was all over.

_If they even made it that far …_

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Regina asked, breaking a silence that had gone on for too long. She didn’t want to push him – she understood all too well how he felt – but Rumple was right. They couldn’t have much time at all before the Black Fairy got back in the game.

Another second passed. Then Robin let out a sigh and switched on the tap, cupped both hands in the sink and splashed water on his face. When he’d done that, he washed the open cuts on his knuckles that had come from punching the wall above the oven – leaving a fist-sized hole in the drywall – and dried himself off with a tea-towel.

“Yeah,” he said. He turned to face her; though he was red and blotchy all over, a fiery determination still burned in his eyes. “Let’s send that bitch back where she belongs.”

As soon as they stepped out of the kitchen, the murmurings ceased. Expectant, frightened faces turned on them. Families held each other close – Philip had one arm wrapped around Aurora and their baby cradled between them; Frederick did the same to Abigail, who hugged her pregnant belly protectively; Leroy held Astrid’s hand; Archie stood near Ruby and Dorothy, Pongo at his feet growling softly; Marco and August stood behind them. Regina was amused to see that they both had a hammer tucked into their belts.

“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Regina started awkwardly. “Now, I assume you’ve all got a lot of questions –”

They did, and they asked them all at once.

“What is going on?” said Jefferson.

“Why won’t anybody tell us what’s happening?” said King Midas.

“Where are Snow and Charming?” asked Granny.

“What is the hell is happening?!” said August.

“What was that magic dome on Main Street?” asked Happy.

“Are we in danger?” asked Archie.

“Yes,” said Regina, holding up a hand for silence. The diner was instantly quiet. “Yes, we’re in danger. That’s why I’ve asked you to come here.” She took a deep breath. “The Black Fairy is in Storybrooke.”

There was another uproar.

“Who?” said Leroy.

“Why didn’t anybody tell us?!” Tink demanded.

“Where the hell are Snow and Charming?” Granny repeated.

“I don’t know,” said Regina. The uproar resumed. “ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP!” she shouted over the noise, and the diner went silent once again except for baby Philip, who started to cry. “Sorry, Aurora. The rest of you, we have got a situation here. For those who don’t know, suffice it to say that the Black Fairy is a very bad person, and yes, she is in Storybrooke. But she’s injured. We have a small window of opportunity and we have to take it while we can. Leroy, we need as many cars and vans as we can get. And the school bus. Children and young mothers have to be the first ones out of Storybrooke.”

“Wait, are we sure that’s such a good idea?” said Frederick. “Maybe we should be trying to get everyone into one place that’s easily defensible. Like the school. Or the town hall.”

“It won’t be good enough,” said Robin. “Everyone’s best chance is to get out of town as soon as possible.”

“John, Alan, I want you to lead groups into the woods. Across the town line if you can get them there,” Regina went on. She pulled a roll of papers out of her handbag. “These are maps of the tunnels underneath Storybrooke. I’ve highlighted the ones that lead out of town. Granny, Archie, Jefferson, I want you to go to the school and help the teachers start rounding up the kids. I rang the principal and he’s agreed to call a fire drill in … half an hour. The dwarves will be driving. Everyone else, spread the word. Knock on doors, shout it from the rooftops, drag people out of their homes, I don’t care. It’s not safe for them to remain in town.”

“We’re not fighting?” asked Leroy.

“No,” said Regina. “We’ve got a better plan. It’s a long shot at best, but if it doesn’t work then people will be a lot safer on the outside than they will be here. If it does work, we can bring everyone back afterwards. Ella, can I have a word?”

Everyone began to file out. Regina pulled the young princess aside.

“What’s up?” asked Ella.

“Any chance you’ve got Neal?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Good. Listen – I need you to take him with you. Don’t wait for Snow and David.”

Ella looked confused. “Why?”

“Well,” Regina hesitated and glanced quickly around the room, “let’s just say that they aren’t exactly onboard with this plan.”

“O-kay,” she said with a small nod. “So you want me to kidnap their kid?”

“Trust me,” said Regina, ignoring the crushing feeling of guilt inside her. “He’ll be better off.”

* * *

 

The heroes were all at the convent. Hidden in the hedge wall by the road and watching them through a device Papa had called ‘binoculars’, Gabi derisively wondered if they were capable of functioning alone or whether they could only operate as a hive mind. It would certainly explain the number of bad decisions they seemed to make.

Gabi couldn’t see much through the window of the Blue Fairy’s office, but she counted Snow White, the other sheriff who was also her husband, and Captain Hook. There was no sign of Emma, which Gabi thought was a bit peculiar. The pirate also wore a particularly sour look, but then Gabi didn’t know him very well. It could have been completely normal.

“Are they still there?” asked Mama, returning from the car with two candy bars. She tore the wrapper off one and offered the other to Gabi.

“Still there,” Gabi confirmed. She passed the binoculars to Mama. “Do you know where the Blue Fairy keeps her wand?”

“Two guesses – either somewhere in her office, or she keeps it on her person.”

“And the plan is to hit her with sleeping dust and hope it works on her?”

“Rumple – your father says it should.”

Gabi frowned. She’d heard better plans, but then she’d had a total of two confrontations with a fairy and neither of them had ended well. Papa supposedly had hundreds of years’ worth of experience.

“If it doesn’t, what’s our backup plan?”

Mama shrugged. “We’ll improvise.”

“What does that mean?”

“Uh, it means that we’ll make it up as we go along.”

 _Oh, that’s how it’s pronounced,_ Gabi thought. She had seen the word ‘improvise’ written on paper but never heard it said aloud before. Until then, she and Gideon had pronounced it as _IM-proov-is._

As she thought about it, Mama tapped her on the shoulder. “They’re going. Come on.”

Staying near the hedges to avoid being seen, they watched the sheriff, Snow White and Captain Hook climb into the black-and-white vehicle and drive off. The moment they were gone, Mama darted out of the hedges to the front door of the convent. Gabi ran slightly behind and shut the doors behind them.

“This way,” Mama whispered.

She led the way down a corridor lit by gas lamps. Gabi inspected one with curiosity. They had to use glow-worm lamps in the mines because of the risk of explosions, but there had been gas ones in the higher level cells. The mechanics were fascinating, if a little crude –

“Gabi!”

“Sorry,” said Gabi, shrinking inwards with embarrassment. Gideon had said on numerous occasions that she got distracted easily.

They walked on a little further, until Mama came to a stop outside a door marked with the words ‘Mother Superior’. “This is it,” said Mama. She reached into her pockets and withdrew a balled-up handkerchief bound with a rubber band. “I’ll enter first and get her attention, then you hit her with this. Got it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright.” Mama stood in front of the door, took a breath and knocked.

“Enter!” called the voice from within.

Mama opened the door. Gabi carefully stayed out of sight.

“Belle?” said Blue. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Rumple and I have come up with our own plan to tackle the Black Fairy. We need to borrow your wand.”

“My wand? Good grief, child. What in the world made you think I’d just hand my wand over to the Dark One?”

At that, Gabi took her cue. She shoved the door open forcefully and threw the dust, having already triangulated Blue’s position from the sound of her voice. Blue’s eyes widened in surprise, and Mama caught her before she crumpled.

“Alright, do you think you can find it while I keep a lookout?” asked Mama, gracefully lying Blue flat on the floor.

Gabi nodded. “I’ll be alright.”

“If you hear the codeword, get out as quickly as you can.”

“I will.”

“I love you,” said Mama with a smile, both hands on Gabi’s cheeks. Without warning, she leant forwards and kissed Gabi on the forehead. “Be safe.”

And with that, she left. Gabi absently raised a hand to her forehead and touched the spot where Mama had kissed. It felt weird, but at the same time, kind of nice.

She supposed she could get used to it.

In the meantime, she started by searching Blue’s pockets, of which she found none. How a person got around without pockets, Gabi had no idea. It just seemed silly. There was nothing in Blue’s sleeves either, or in her shoes, which were flimsy little slip-on things that couldn’t possibly serve a practical purpose. She didn’t even wear socks.

 _The Black Fairy never wore socks either,_ Gabi remembered. Maybe fairies didn’t like to wear socks or practical shoes, or maybe they thought they didn’t need them because they had magic to protect their feet. In Gabi’s opinion, the best kind of boots were the kind made of hardy leather that protected the toes, but with worn-through soles that allowed the wearer to feel the ground beneath their feet. Robin had good boots. Mama’s boots didn’t look like they were made of leather, but they seemed solid enough. Papa’s were awfully shiny. Regina … well, Gabi rather thought that her footwear could hardly be considered as such, with its thin straps and ridiculously high heels.

Perhaps she had fairy blood, or maybe it was something that Gabi hadn’t considered. She’d have to ask Mama about that sometime.

Next, she moved on to the desk drawers. There were pencils and pens, but nothing else that looked anything like a wand. There was nothing of interest in the cupboards or the wardrobe either, and Gabi started to panic.

_I can’t find it!_

_“What?”_ Gideon replied.

_The Blue Fairy’s wand! I can’t find where she might be keeping it!_

_“Gabi, if you can’t find her wand –”_

_I know, I know! Uuuuhh. I could try the rest of the convent, but the other fairies are still here –_ Gabi frowned. She could hear footsteps. _Gid?_

_“Get out of there right now!”_

The footsteps were too close to the door. Gabi didn’t know what would happen if she was seen by another fairy – and it wasn’t Mama, because Mama would have said the codeword first – so she darted to the window. It was locked. She fumbled in her pockets for a pick when the doorknob turned. There was no time to pick the lock, so Gabi climbed into the wardrobe and closed the doors, careful not to make a sound.

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” said a voice that turned Gabi’s blood cold. It was the Black Fairy. “Dear me, my old friend.”

If Gabi wiggled just slightly, she could see through the crack between the doors. The Black Fairy stood over Blue’s unconscious body with a gleeful smile and one hand outstretched. Dark smoke engulfed Blue, and then she was gone.

“Well, that was much easier than I anticipated,” said the Black Fairy. “Help me check the room, Gideon.”

 _I’m in the wardrobe!_ Gabi quickly called to her brother.

“I’ll check the wardrobe,” said Gideon.

Damhsa made a non-committal noise in reply. Two seconds later, the wardrobe opened. Gabi waved from her spot in the corner next to Blue’s rack of impractical shoes.

_Hi._

_“Hello.”_

_I didn’t find it._

_“Bugger.”_

_What is she looking for?_

_“Her wand.”_

_Blue’s wand?_

_“No, the wand she had before Blue exiled her.”_

“Gideon?”

“There’s nothing in here,” he said out loud, shutting the wardrobe doors.

“Hmm,” the Black Fairy mused. “Then there is only one other place that she could be keeping my wand. Come.”

Another wave of black smoke carried them away. Gabi counted to three before she opened the doors, and another three before she risked contacting Gideon.

_Where are you?_

_“The big mansion near the woods.”_

* * *

 

“Come on, come on, hurry up!”

Regina ushered the third- and fourth-graders past the school gates. Charlotte Webster was ahead of her, getting the fifth-graders settled on the bus while Happy fidgeted nervously in the driver’s seat.

“Watch your feet! Come on, kids, keep it moving, keep it moving –!”

“Is that everyone?” Happy shouted. Between the noise of the engine, the kids’ chatter and the wind that had picked up in speed over the last few minutes, it was hard to hear.

“This is the last group!” Regina replied. She shivered and pulled her jacket tighter. _Gods, it’s cold._ “Alright, get in! Careful, now – no pushing!”

“Mom!”

“Henry!”

Regina hugged her son tight. “Are the high-schoolers ready to go?”

“Yeah, the last class is on the bus right now,” said Henry.

“Good. Thank you. Alright, you’d better hurry.”

“I’m staying, Mom.”

“Henry –”

“Mom –”

“Henry! I don’t have time to argue about this! Now get in that bus and get the hell out of here –”

She never got to finish as a display of brilliant purple and blue lights suddenly lit up the grey sky. People screamed, already terrified as they were. Regina shielded her eyes and scanned the rooftops for the source. Behind the woodshop classroom, there was a concentrated area where some green weaved in with the blue and purple –

“Isn’t that the Sorcerer’s Mansion?” Henry observed.

“Henry,” said Regina, turning to him with a stern look and a firm grip on his shoulders. “Stay here. Make sure everyone gets on that bus, and then you go with them. Keep them safe.”

“Mom –”

She kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

“Mom!” was all she heard before she teleported away.

* * *

 

If Gideon’s description was right, then Rumplestiltskin believed he had found the correct room in the Mansion. The door was long gone, reduced to a blackened strip on the floor. The Black Fairy must have wanted to make damn sure that nobody could reopen the portal. Well, he was more than happy to prove her wrong …

He knelt to analyse the remains, to see if there was anything left of the spell he could salvage, when a gust of wind alerted him to a new arrival.

“Hello, Rumplestiltskin,” said the Black Fairy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, Part XV: The Battle for Storybrooke, Part 1


	15. Part XV

Rumplestiltskin took his time to stand up and turn around. If the Black Fairy wanted to attack him, then she would have done it when his back was turned.

“Damhsa a’Deireadh,” he said with mock politeness. He risked a glance past her to where Gideon stood, half-hidden by shadows. His son winked. So everything was still going according to plan … mostly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Actually, I had come here to have a long overdue conversation with an old friend,” said Damhsa. Then her smile faded, replaced by a look of curiosity. “What are you doing, Dark One? Are you still trying to fight me?”

“As it so happens, I am.”

She tutted. “I’m disappointed. I would’ve thought you’d have learnt by now that it’s pointless. You can’t defeat me – so why do you try?”

“ _You_ attacked _me,_ ” Rumplestiltskin growled, taking a step forwards. “ _You_ invaded _my_ town. Stole _my_ children. Why?”

Damhsa spread her hands. “I’m the Black Fairy, dear. It’s what I do.”

 _No, it’s not,_ thought Rumplestiltskin. _You may be many things, dearie, but a fool isn’t one of them._

What was in the Sorcerer’s Mansion that she wanted?

“Why _did_ you come here?” Rumplestiltskin asked, stalling for time. He risked another glance at Gideon, hoping that he had been able to tip Belle and Gabi off. The boy’s expression remained carefully blank, but, subtly, he gave a tiny nod. “What could you possibly want in Storybrooke?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” said Damhsa.

“Rheul Ghorm exiled you, didn’t she?” Rumplestiltskin suggested. Damhsa remained silent. “She took your wand, stripped you of your powers and banished you from the Enchanted Forest. _She’s_ why you wanted to come here, isn’t she? For what? Vengeance?”

Damhsa was silent, but Rumplestiltskin thought he saw a muscle twitch in her jaw. “As I said,” she responded, voice low and flat, “you wouldn’t understand. Now … _get out._ ”

“No.”

Something flashed in the fairy’s dark eyes. “You don’t want to fight me, Dark One.”

“Oh, I really think I do.”

“You –”

She broke off, as Rumplestiltskin swept a wave of dark magic in her direction that she deflected with ease. Anger flared across her face, but to his surprise, she didn’t retaliate.

“Don’t make me do this.”

“What?”

But that was as far as he got, because a moment after the word left his mouth, the door smashed open and in burst Hook and Charming, swords and guns blazing. Gideon jumped out of the way; Damhsa and Rumplestiltskin were not so lucky. Or rather, Hook and Charming weren’t so lucky. Damhsa flung them both into a wall and whistled; a second later, there was a scuttling sound from the ceiling, and a giant spider descended on the pair. Rumplestiltskin blasted it away, but that was all it took for Damhsa to disappear with Gideon in tow.

He also had to catch the arrow that would have hit her, and threw Snow White a look of fury.

“Damned fools!” he snarled, throwing the arrow to the ground.

* * *

 

Gabi ran through the door of the Sorcerer’s Mansion ahead of Mama. She heard the crashes and the yelling and sprinted faster.

_Gid –!_

_“Find the wand!”_ her brother replied. _“Don’t worry about me! Just find the wand!_

The sound was coming from the portal room. Gabi jumped over the remains of the door and tackled the nearest person, who just so happened to be Snow White. They crashed to the floor; Gabi rolled away and quickly sprung to her feet. Somebody appeared in front of her; she prepared to throw a punch.

“Take it easy,” said Regina, letting go of Gabi’s fist. “Did you find Blue’s wand?”

Gabi shook her head. “No. And the Black Fairy took her prisoner, and now she’s searching for her own wand. Gideon thinks it’s somewhere here.”

“In the Sorcerer’s Mansion?”

A spiny leg smashed into the wall, leaving a fist-sized hole. Regina snarled and sent a fireball flying at the owner.

“Leave this to us. Just find that wand before she does.”

“What?”

Regina deflected another wave of magic – or it might have been a spider, Gabi didn’t get a good look – and then forcefully turned her in the direction of the door. “Go!”

Gabi did.

* * *

 

_“How am I going to find this thing? This place is huge!”_

_Wait a second._

Through their connection, Gideon felt it as Gabi came to a stop on the giant staircase, initially leaving him confused as to why he was standing on flat ground. While his body and mind came back to an agreement about their location within the Sorcerer’s Mansion, Gideon shut his eyes and tried to feel for magic anywhere nearby. It was a trick he had mastered as a boy, mostly using it to check whether the Black Fairy was spying on him. After eliminating his father, sister and the fairies, he finally located a small blip four floors above.

_Try the big room on the fourth floor. I think it’s a library._

_“Okay. Where are you?”_

_I’m in the cellar._

_“Why?”_

_She’s got Blue chained up down here._

_“What? Why?”_

_I don’t – wait; she’s coming back._

Gideon stood up straight and tried his best not to look at Blue, tied up against the wall. Iron cuffs bound the fairy’s wrists and ankles. He knew for a fact that the chains weren’t heavy, but iron was like poison to fairies, especially when imbued with traces of silver. Blue was pale and obviously in pain. But to her credit, she jutted her chin and bore it.

She kept trying to catch his eye. Gideon stared at the far wall. He was afraid that if he met her gaze, she’d see straight through the ruse and sell him out.

Just a little bit longer.

“ _Saw the silent shadows did fall,_ ” sang the Black Fairy as she emerged from the darkness, carrying a leather case that made Gideon shiver. Blue did not waver. “ _I cried and called my sweet bairn’s name, but I never saw sweet baby again._ You know,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of Blue, “I brought this here just for you. I’m so happy that we finally get to play.”

“You can’t scare me, Fiona,” said Blue.

The Black Fairy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “That is no longer my name, dear sister. Or did you forget?”

 _“Gideon?”_ Gabi called. _“What’s going on?”_

_Quiet! I’m trying to listen!_

“What happened to you?” Blue asked.

“You have to ask?” said the Black Fairy. Slowly, as if handling a dangerous potion, she undid the ties on the leather case and unrolled it on the floor in front of her. Long, pointed fingers danced over the objects within before settling on a thin, knotted piece of wood. “After all the pain that you put me through, you actually have the nerve to ask that question?”

“Don’t do this, Damhsa,” said Blue. Her eyes darted to the wand and for the first time, she looked scared. “You’re better than this.”

“You’re about three hundred years too late, my dear sister.”

_“Gid! I found it!”_

Before Gideon could reply, he heard footsteps on the stairs.

_“What was that?”_

_Problem. Big, big problem._

He managed to time it so that he was out of the way a split second before the door burst open. That way, he wasn’t hit by the blast, but he was also able to keep Papa’s arrival from the Black Fairy. Regina launched a huge fireball before the debris had cleared, which flew straight at the Black Fairy. Gideon scrambled to his feet and made to follow the mayor, but instead ran headfirst into Captain Hook, knocking both of them to the floor. Since the pirate had been about to swing a sword at Papa, that was probably a good thing.

“Bloody – you bugger, bloody crocodile spawn!” Hook spouted off more curse words that Gideon didn’t fully understand while they wrestled for control of the pirate’s sword. Gideon elbowed him in the belly, pulled the sword free and then shoved it against Hook’s throat.

“You won’t kill me,” the pirate snarled. But any intimidating effect he aimed for was ruined by his breathlessness, caused by his recent winding and Gideon’s knee on his chest that pinned him to the floor. “You’re a coward just like your father.”

“No,” said Gideon. It wasn’t what a real hero would do. “I want you to live with it. Live with the fact that I showed you mercy when you wouldn’t do it for me.”

He chucked the sword aside. But while Gideon wanted to do the brave thing, he also didn’t want to do the stupid thing. And he knew exactly what would happen if he turned his back, so he struck Hook across the face and left the unconscious pirate on the floor. The Blue Fairy, still chained up, scowled.

“The key’s in that box over there,” said Gideon, pointing to the Black Fairy’s safebox. He didn’t know what else was in there, and he definitely didn’t want to know. “Papa can get you out later.”

Then he bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time. 

* * *

 

The mansion’s grand hall had descended into chaos.

Rumplestiltskin, unable to see left or right for all of the noise and movement, threw magic in every direction – a fireball at a spider that almost caught Regina unawares from behind, a shield to protect himself from a wayward arrow of Snow’s. It was all he could do to keep himself from being swallowed into the pandemonium. Then the sight of chestnut hair made his chest tight. He glanced towards Regina, who was battling three giant spiders simultaneously, and grimaced, but his mind was made up. She could handle herself.

“Belle!” Rumplestiltskin shouted, running for his wife. “Belle!”

“Rumple!”

Under other circumstances, he would have wrapped her in his arms and whisked them far away. But these were not normal circumstances. He pushed her behind him as a spider dropped from the ceiling, and he hit it with a bolt of magic that sent it scurrying up the stairs. He growled. That spell could have killed a dragon.

“Rumple!” Belle called, her voice penetrating the din like a musical number. “Where are the kids?”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “I don’t know. Gideon was in the cellar, and Gabi –”

“ _You traitor!”_ Snow White suddenly screeched, making Rumplestiltskin put a protective arm around his wife. But the accusation was aimed at Regina. “How could you choose _his_ side?”

“Because as usual, he’s right, and you’re wrong!” said Regina. She summoned fire to her hands, and for a moment Rumplestiltskin thought she was finally going to incinerate her stepdaughter. Instead, she sent the flames flying over Snow’s head, igniting a section of the rafters. Four spiders shrieked and fled.

“I trusted you!”

“Hey!” shouted Robin, who was holding another spider at swordpoint with David looking uneasy beside him. “Shut your mouth for two seconds and help us fight these bloody things!”

“It’s happening again,” said Belle. Rumplestiltskin looked at her. She was pale and looked like she could cry. “They’re just gonna keep fighting each other, aren’t they?”

“It’s delightful, isn’t it?”

Cackling laughter sounded from the staircase. The Black Fairy stood on the eleventh step, her shiny midnight dress flowing down like a waterfall of darkness and a gloved hand sweeping the bannister.

Rumplestiltskin felt Belle’s grip on his arm tighten. He sighed and let his clenched fists loosen. She’d known exactly what he’d been about to do.

“It’s what she wants,” Belle murmured.

“Listen to your little wife, Dark One,” said Damhsa. “Let the proles fight amongst themselves. Of course, if you have a preference for who wins, there are ways to orchestrate such things.”

“By allying with you?” Rumplestiltskin guessed. Damhsa gave a wicked half-grin.

“We’d never help you!” Belle shouted.

Damhsa’s grin disappeared. “I wasn’t asking _you,_ ” she sneered venomously.

“You won’t touch her,” Rumplestiltskin growled between gritted teeth as he stepped between his wife and the Black Fairy. She merely rolled her eyes in response.

“ _True Love._ How nauseatingly – _oofff!”_

Caught by surprise, the Black Fairy tumbled down the stairs as Gabi ran just behind, jumping over the fairy’s slim form when they both reached the bottom.

“Papa! I got it!”

Rumplestiltskin was initially confused, because it wasn’t Blue’s wand that she held in her hand – he knew that blasted instrument all too well – but a slender black wand marked with starry silver inscriptions. The Black Fairy’s wand. Blue must have hidden it in the Mansion after she got it back from him.

He started forwards, reaching out for his daughter. On the second step, a heavy weight crashed into his side. It seemed Captain Hook had rejoined the fight.

“Hey!” shouted Belle.

Hook ignored her. He held Rumplestiltskin by the lapels and his hook flashed, a second before the pirate yelped in pain and doubled over.

“Good kick.” Rumplestiltskin beamed at his wife. Belle panted, straightened her skirt and looked down at Hook in distaste.

“Stay down or next time, I’ll cut them off,” she warned the pirate, who was rolling on the floor clutching his crotch in pain. For once, he appeared to get the message.

“What do we do now, Papa?” asked Gabi. “We don’t have Blue’s wand.”

“This one will work just as well,” said Rumplestiltskin, taking the Black Fairy’s wand from her. Dark magic called to him from deep within its core. It was truly a thing of evil. “Get your brother. We need to move quickly, while she’s still distracted.”

As amusing as she seemed to find the feud, Rumplestiltskin doubted that it would keep Damhsa occupied for long. He looked around. Regina and Snow continued to scream at each other. Robin looked about ready to punch Snow, Gideon had his sword out and swatting at whatever came within reach, and poor David seemed to be torn between his loyalty to his wife and his common sense. All the while, they struggled to keep the spiders at bay. Rumplestiltskin knew his shields would only protect them for so long – if they would just stop fighting _each other_ –

“STOP IT!”

The hall went silent.

“Henry!” shouted Regina. The spider she had been battling clicked its mandibles and lunged – she flicked her wrist and crushed the unfortunate arachnid under the weight of an elephant’s foot umbrella stand, magically increased to ten times its original size. “I told you to get on the bus!”

“Henry!” shouted David and Snow at the same time as Regina. “What are you doing?!”

“What are _you_ doing?!” Henry continued as though he hadn’t heard them. “The greatest evil in all the realms is in Storybrooke, and you’re all fighting each other like a bunch of sixth graders!”

“Henry, you need to get out of here –” started Snow.

“No, you need to listen to me!” Henry’s face was red. Rumplestiltskin didn’t think he’d ever seen his grandson so angry. “Don’t you get it? She’s getting you to fight each other _on purpose!_ She’s been behind it from the start! She’s been turning you against each other so that she doesn’t have to do any of it herself! She can come right in and take over Storybrooke without having to lift a finger!”

“Henry,” said David in his ‘calm-grandfather’ voice. “I get what you’re trying to say, but don’t you think we’d have noticed if that was the case?”

Rumplestiltskin chuckled when he noticed Belle rolled her eyes.

“No, Gramps, you wouldn’t,” said Henry. “Because you hate Grandpa Gold and you’ve all been against him and Grandma Belle since before we got back from the Underworld. _And_ you’ve been listening to all of Hook’s shit.”

“Henry –!” Regina and Snow gasped simultaneously.

“I’m sorry, Mom, but somebody had to say it.”

Before somebody could scold Henry further on his word choices, the Black Fairy – recovered from Gabi’s attack – began to clap slowly. All eyes turned to her.

“Passionately put, young man,” she said, descending the stairs at a languid pace. “It’s such a shame that your family seems to have forgotten how to listen to the word of the Author. And it’ll be my pleasure to bring an end to such a distasteful nuisance.”

“You won’t touch him,” Rumplestiltskin warned.

Damhsa smiled like a grandmother amused by the antics of a small child. “You know you can’t defeat me. Only a Saviour can defeat the darkness. And as I understand it, you’re fresh out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

All eyes turned again – except Henry, who grinned proudly – as Emma stepped through the doorway with her red jacket on and hazel eyes burning like wildfire.

“You wanna fight somebody? Fight me!”

Damhsa hissed and skipped to the bottom step. The spiders stepped aside, creating an aisle for their mistress. “It would be my pleasure.”

Rumplestiltskin prepared to lunge forwards, knowing Emma wouldn’t stand two minutes on her own, only to smack into an invisible barrier. As he stumbled backwards, he heard Damhsa laugh.

“Now, now. This is between me and the Saviour, Dark One.”

Rumplestiltskin looked up, felt his stomach plummet to the floor, and looked down at his hand. The Black Fairy’s wand was gone.

“You were too busy fighting each other to notice,” she said, waving the wand lazily through the air. “Shall we, Miss Swan?”

Rumplestiltskin punched the air in front of him. It was no use; his magic simply fizzled and disappeared the moment it contacted.

Meanwhile, Emma had gone pale. For a moment, Rumplestiltskin wondered if she would run again. Then white magic began to shine out of her hands, forming a translucent snowy shield.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be, dearie,” said the Black Fairy, raising her wand.

And then Emma struck, brilliant white light encompassing the whole hall so Rumplestiltskin couldn’t see anything else. He shielded his eyes, almost blinded. Then black tendrils crept out of the whiteness like lightning bolts, twisting and warping into grotesque shapes, until all that was left of Emma’s magic was the tiniest spark. Then there was a thunderous _CRACK_ , and the scene cleared.

Apart from Rumplestiltskin – who was still trapped behind the barrier – Damhsa was the only one on her feet. Emma lay shaking on the floor, her face ashen and all strength clearly gone.

“I was told three hundred years ago that a Saviour would be my undoing,” the Black Fairy said conversationally as she hovered over Emma, twirling her wand between her fingers. “But I never once imagined that defying Fate would be this easy.”

Rumplestiltskin punched the invisible barrier again, felt his magic fizzle away and fought the urge to scream in frustration. There was nothing he could do except watch as Damhsa laughed to herself and raised her wand again, ignoring the frantic cries of Snow, David and Henry and Regina’s similarly fruitless efforts to free herself –

Until Gideon appeared in a blaze of golden light, followed by a flash of silver and a wave of black smoke. Rumplestiltskin landed heavily on his backside next to Belle as a shrill, hellish scream pierced the Mansion, his ears, his brain and his soul. After what seemed to be an eternity in a world full of forks scraping on ceramics and pins stuck in nerve endings, Rumplestiltskin sat up – the only one to do so, as everyone else still had their hands clamped over their ears and eyes screwed shut – in time to see the Black Fairy drive the broken shard of her wand into Gideon’s stomach. He dropped his sword and crumbled to his knees. It wasn’t until Rumplestiltskin saw Gabi race to her brother’s side that he realised the spell was broken.

“Gideon!” cried Belle, who was also already up and running. As were Snow and David, now that they realised what had happened. Emma seemed to have fainted, or collapsed from exhaustion, or both. Robin and Regina had run to each other, holding Henry between them.

“It’s not that bad,” Gideon gasped between groans of pain, clutching his bloodied side. “I’m sorry, _Mother,_ ” he then spat at the Black Fairy, whose rage Rumplestiltskin could feel on his skin, “but I’m not going to do your dirty work anymore.”

“You –”

“It’s over, Damhsa,” said Rumplestiltskin. He stood and faced the Black Fairy. “It’s over.”

She slowly raised her gaze. As her expression changed from cold fury to malevolent gaiety, Rumplestiltskin felt a chill down his spine.

“Not quite,” was all she said.

Rumplestiltskin looked down.

Black smoke crept out from the floorboards. It looked like worms wriggling their way to the surface. Rumplestiltskin stepped back. As he did, he cursed the Black Fairy. He cursed the pirate. He cursed the entire damn world, but most of all, he cursed himself, for not seeing that this would happen.

The Black Fairy had been planning this for a long time. Of course she would have all the necessary steps in place. All she needed was her wand, and a few seconds of contact with which to power her curse. Dark fairy dust would take care of the rest …

“Rumple?”

He knelt and wrapped his arm around Belle. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” he whispered automatically, though he knew – and Belle knew – it was a lie.

With his other hand, he reached out for his children, who clutched each other within their mother’s embrace. Gideon had his head on Gabi’s shoulder with his eyes half-shut. Gabi was crying.

“I’m sorry, Papa.”

Rumplestiltskin squeezed her hand and smiled. “You did the best you could. I’m so proud of you.”

“We both are,” said Belle as Gabi let out another sob.

Around the room, factions of the broken family held onto each other as the smoke continued to climb, engulfing first the room, and then the mansion, the road and the woods beyond, until it expanded over the length of Storybrooke.

* * *

 

The alarm buzzed loudly in Rumplestiltskin’s ear, drawing him from his comfortable sleep. Groaning, he rolled over, reluctantly leaving the warmth of his blanket cocoon and slammed his hand down on the clock. The buzzing didn’t stop. He tried again. The buzzing still didn’t stop.

With another groan, he cracked his eyes open. Then he blinked, confused. The alarm clock read five twenty-three a.m. His alarm wasn’t supposed to go off until a quarter to six. Steadily working his way to full consciousness, Rumplestiltskin realised that the sound wasn’t coming from his alarm, but rather from the baby monitor that sat next to it.

Baby monitor?

Rumplestiltskin sat up and looked around. He was in his own bed, in his own house, wearing his own pyjamas. These were his blankets, and that was his pillow.

And yet the last thing he remembered was being inside the Sorcerer’s Mansion with …

He could picture their faces – two women and a young man. They were _important_ …

The monitor buzzed again, startling him. This time Rumplestiltskin registered the sound properly. It was a cry. A _baby’s_ cry.

He tore the blankets off, swung his legs over the bed, grabbed the monitor and passed to the door, leaving his slippers and dressing gown behind. As he went to open the door, he caught sight of his left hand and froze.

Where the hell was his ring? Rumplestiltskin blinked, in case it would appear. His ring finger remained bare. He was certain he was supposed to wear a wedding band. He was _married._

Wasn’t he?

“Waah! Waah!” went the crier.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Rumplestiltskin grumbled.

Once in the hall, he rubbed his eyes and let out a groan. _Must’ve been a hell of a dream,_ he decided.

Guided entirely by instinct, he found himself next to the linen closet, standing outside a door that had been left partially open. The crying was louder. Rumplestiltskin shut off the monitor and gently pushed the door.

He was in a nursery. A rather crude nursery, one that looked as if it had been a study until recently; the desk, chair and filing cabinet had all been shoved to one side, and the bookshelf was full of law textbooks and accounting folders. There was a stuffed brown teddy sitting on the desk next to an open box of nappies and a foldaway change mat. In the middle of the room stood a plain crib, with no insignia or markings to identify child inside.

Rumplestiltskin stood frozen in the doorway. _This isn’t right,_ he thought.

Then the baby cried again. Louder and sharper. It knew somebody was there, and that somebody was not paying attention to its needs.

Heart pounding in his ears, Rumplestiltskin walked over to the crib and looked inside.

“Gideon?” he murmured.

That was the name embroidered in blue on the baby’s white blankie. Rumplestiltskin stared. Gideon. His boy. His son, returned to the form of the baby that had been stolen from him and Belle –

 _Belle._ Gods, where was she? Rumplestiltskin looked around as if expecting his wife to magically appear out of the shadows. Then he had a worse realisation.

If Gideon was a baby again … then was Gabi too? And if so, where was she?

“Waah! Waah!”

“It’s alright, son,” Rumplestiltskin murmured softly. He shoved those thoughts aside and focused on Gideon’s current need by reaching into the crib and picking him up. Gideon continued to fuss. Rumplestiltskin gently rocked him in his arms. Gideon made a contented noise and quietened.

So the Black Fairy had succeeded in casting her curse after all.

Rumplestiltskin swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat and quickly took stock of what he knew. It appeared that he was still in Storybrooke, but had once again taken on the persona of Mr Gold, mysterious landlord and unscrupulous pawnbroker. Except this time he had a baby son. And as for his son’s mother …

“It’s alright, Gid,” Rumplestiltskin whispered. Gideon was hungry, he realised when the baby turned inwards and began to nuzzle, as if searching for something in his father’s pyjama pocket. He moved his son so that he rested on one arm, then gently grazed his little finger across Gideon’s cheek until the boy took hold of it with his mouth. Suckling would only keep him occupied for so long. Rumplestiltskin hoped he had milk around somewhere. “It’s alright. Papa’s got you.”

He looked around, as if expecting Belle and Gabi to suddenly appear. They had to be _somewhere._

Didn’t they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, Part XVI: Rumplestiltskin figures out the inner workings of his new world and encounters the Black Fairy


	16. Part XVI

“Shit!”

The toast was burning. Rumplestiltskin put the kettle down in a hurry, swore again when boiling water splashed all over the counter and onto his bare feet, and swore twice more when the smoking pieces of bread popped out of the toaster.

“ _Waaah!_ ”

“Oh, Gid.”

Not even five minutes, and Gideon was unsettled again. Rumplestiltskin chucked the toast onto the plate, turned around, slipped on the wet floor and caught himself on the bench, then scooped his crying son out of his carrier. Gideon continued to cry, so Rumplestiltskin held him close and whispered to him, “You’re okay. Papa’s here, son. Papa’s got you …”

Over and over until Gideon was quiet again.

Rumplestiltskin wiped his eyes and tried to breathe around the lump that had formed in his throat.

 _“The bloody great Dark One, crying in his kitchen,”_ muttered Nimue. Rumplestiltskin could almost _hear_ her eyes roll in contempt.

“Oh, great,” he groaned. “You’re still here.”

Gideon grumbled against his shoulder.

“Sorry, son,” said Rumplestiltskin, shaking his head and quickly shoving the voices of his predecessors to one side. The least the Black Fairy could’ve done was give him a reprieve from _that_ lot …

He resumed work on his breakfast one-handed. _Most_ of the milk landed in the coffee mug, and he didn’t particularly care that the eggs wound up folded in half. As he bit into dry toast with a lump of butter squashed in the middle, he heard his phone ring from elsewhere in the house. It stopped during his search, but the caller must have tried again almost straight away – and thankfully, otherwise Rumplestiltskin may never have found it wedged underneath the couch cushion.

“Hello?”

“Grandpa?” said a voice. It was Henry, Rumplestiltskin registered after a few embarrassingly long seconds. “Did you only just get up?”

“Uh, no, no, Henry. Just couldn’t find my phone.” Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat, and was happy that his voice sounded much less like a rusty bandsaw. “How can I help you?”

“You’re running late. I’ve been standing outside the shop for twenty minutes; I was getting worried …”

“The shop?”

“Yeah, your shop. Where are you?”

“Uh, I’m at home …”

“Grandpa, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Henry …” Rumplestiltskin trailed off, his mind preoccupied trying to make sense of this new information.

Henry was at the shop. Henry was worried that he, Rumplestiltskin, was running late.

Some instinct made him look at the calendar. The last date crossed off was Friday, meaning that today was a Saturday …

“And Henry comes to work at the shop on Saturday mornings,” Rumplestiltskin murmured as a cursed memory bubbled to the surface. _He stays with Regina during the week because it’s closer to school, and comes here on the weekends to help me out at the shop, and I offered him the job after Emma …_

“Grandpa?” said Henry, interrupting the thought.

“I’ll be there in half an hour, Henry,” said Rumplestiltskin, hanging up. He looked down at Gideon, who was drooling on his bathrobe. “Well, son, looks like it’s time for us to brave the big, bad world.”

* * *

 

Well, this scene looked familiar.

Rumplestiltskin let his feet carry him down Main Street on a path he had followed almost every day for twenty-eight years. A cold November chill prickled the back of his neck; he shifted his scarf and kept walking. There was the dentist’s clinic with graffiti on its side wall, and the clothing shop that Jefferson used to run in his spare time, and Geppetto – no, _Marco_ high up on his ladder, fixing that ever-faulty sign of his.

“There. That should fix you,” the elderly carpenter muttered to himself as Rumplestiltskin passed, wheeling the stroller carefully around the ladder’s legs. Gideon slept on, unperturbed by the sound of machinery. “Can you pass me up the five-eighths wrench?”

“Pardon?” Rumplestiltskin sputtered, caught by surprise. Marco looked down.

“Oh, excuse me, Mr Gold, I didn’t mean you,” said the old man. “August!”

“Coming, Father!”

So not _everything_ was the same. Rumplestiltskin glanced back as a young man with heavy stubble and a biker’s jacket hurried out of the shop and rummaged in the toolbox. August was still here. So who else was?

He stopped on the corner and looked up and down the street. There was Granny, scowling at young Red, who had once again returned to her wardrobe of short skirts and only-just-appropriate-for-work white shirts that exposed her navel. The smell of fish-and-chips wafted from Dave’s shop, reminding Rumplestiltskin that he’d only had an egg and a slice of toast for breakfast –

“Good morning, Mr Gold!” called a jovial voice that could only belong to one person. Rumplestiltskin kept his face carefully neutral as he was joined on the sidewalk by Doctor Archibald Hopper and the Dalmatian named Pongo. “How are you?”

“Fine,” said Rumplestiltskin. He hid his nerves and reminded himself that Pongo was the last dog in the world who would do Gideon harm. Still, he turned the stroller on an angle so Pongo could only sniff Gideon’s feet. “Yourself, doctor?”

“Keeping busy, of course,” said Hopper. “Will you and Henry be dropping by at the usual time?”

“The usual time …” Rumplestiltskin repeated.

“Two o’clock. I mean, I know Henry’s been quite frustrated with her lack of progress, but it does her good to see him –”

“Of course.”

“– and, well, I don’t suppose Regina told you that he cancelled our Thursday appointment. That makes three in a row.” Hopper sighed, then quickly righted himself. “Tell him I said hello, won’t you?”

“Of course,” said Rumplestiltskin. “Thank you, doctor. Now, if you’ll excuse me –”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you.”

“That’s quite alright.”

“You will make sure Henry comes today, won’t you?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, Mr Gold. Good to see you out and about again!”

 _That was odd,_ thought Rumplestiltskin. _Even for him._

His stomach grumbled loudly. Rumplestiltskin sighed and looked at his watch. It read a quarter to eight, and all he could think about was a BLT from Granny’s with extra bacon, pickles and a side of fries. _Extra_ , extra bacon in fact. Belle hadn’t let him have a decent burger in months, always forcing him to have it with just enough meat to justify the ‘B’ in the name. Dark One he may be, and yet his wife still fussed about ‘bad cholesterol’ and ‘heart attacks’ like any half-witted sorcerer needed to be worried about such things.

_Belle …_

Rumplestiltskin grit his teeth and turned the stroller in the direction of Granny’s. Starvation would not help him find her any sooner. And hopefully Henry wouldn’t mind him being a few minutes later than expected if he arrived with an offering of cocoa and grilled cheese.

The diner was at the tail end of the breakfast rush, most of the tables occupied by tradesmen and cannery workers with crumbs on their plates quickly downing one last cup of coffee. 80’s tunes played over the radio in between weather forecasts, and the cook yelled for somebody – the apprentice, presumably – to mix up more pancake batter. Rumplestiltskin scanned the crowd for familiar faces, took note of the important ones and then tucked the stroller into a quiet corner. He had no intention of making this any more painful than it had to be –

“Morning, Mr Gold!”

For the second time that day, Rumplestiltskin started at the sound of a friendly greeting extended to him against all expectations. This time, it had come from Red (or Ruby, he should probably call her) who seemed to have materialised out of nowhere and – bloody hell, she was actually _smiling._ Rumplestiltskin looked over his shoulder. No, there was nobody behind him.

“Just the usual this morning?”

“I – beg your pardon?” Rumplestiltskin sputtered stupidly.

“BLT with extra pickles and a side of fries?” said Ruby with her pen hovering over her notebook, ready to jot down his order. Her smile wavered, becoming a look of concern. “Mr Gold?”

“Uh, yes, of course. Thank you. Oh, and a grilled cheese with a hot cocoa. Cinnamon on the whipped cream.”

“Coming right up!”

“Ruby!” Granny shouted from the counter. “Where in the blazes are you?”

Ruby rolled her eyes and turned sharply on her heels. Rumplestiltskin quickly averted his eyes.

“Believe it or not, I was _working,_ ” Ruby snapped as she tore the page off and _thumped_ it down on the counter.

“Hurry up and get these tables cleared, and table three wants their cheque.”

Ruby grumbled something that Rumplestiltskin pretended not to hear, and then got back to – well, there was an awful lot of _leaning_ involved. Granny ignored her and read off the order to the cook while Rumplestiltskin claimed the endmost stool.

“You got Henry back at work, then?”

It took a whole second for Rumplestiltskin to realise she had spoken to him.

“Uh, yes.”

“Good for him. How’s the baby doing?”

“Fine. He’s fine.”

Granny squinted at him. “What’s with you? Wake up on the wrong side of town today?”

“Huh – uh, no,” Rumplestiltskin stammered, trying to think quickly. “No. Just tired.”

She grunted. “Yeah, I remember those days. Listen, you ever need a babysitter, feel free to drop him off round here after breakfast. Ashley brings hers in all the time.”

“Thank you. I’ll – I’ll keep that in mind.”

One of the tables then vacated, and Granny’s attention drawn by a short stream of ‘thank you’s and ‘see you later’s. Rumplestiltskin ducked to check on Gideon – still happily asleep – and when he straightened, it was to find Granny watching him with a serious face.

“Is Henry alright?” she asked.

Blindsided, Rumplestiltskin tried a bluff. “He was the last I saw him.” Well, it wasn’t a _lie._

Granny grunted. “That business with those kids on Muffin Street – I swear, if I’d have been there, it’d have been back to the woodshed for the lot of ‘em.”

“Fat load of good that would’ve done,” growled Grumpy. Leroy. Whichever one he was, he pulled out the seat next to Rumplestiltskin’s, giving him a hearty whiff of the dwarf’s earthy cologne. Or maybe it was fertiliser; his knuckles were red and his knees wet, like he’d been kneeling on wet grass. “Gimme a coffee, long black. Kids like them, beatings don’t do shit. ‘Scuse the French, Mr Gold.”

“Not at all,” Rumplestiltskin muttered.

“Sure, you’ll scare off a kid like Henry – he’s a good fella underneath it all – but it ain’t gonna do shit for some rotten little bastard who’s just gonna turn ‘round and do the same exact crap the next day.”

“You’ve been drinking in the mornings again, haven’t you?” said Granny distastefully, handing Leroy his coffee.

“Haven’t had a drop, believe it or not,” Leroy grunted. “Me and Walter went looking for those kids this morning. They broke Al’s window and painted – well, I ain’t describing it in front of the baby but let’s just say they’ve got a lot to learn about anatomy.”

Granny swore. “This is getting out of hand.”

“They jumped us near the cannery and ran off. Anton reckons they’ve got a hide-out near the farm; he’s been finding broken eggshells outside the shed,” Leroy continued. “Me and the boys are gonna go have a look around later, see if we can’t teach those bastards a lesson or two.”

“Isn’t the sheriff doing anything about it?” Rumplestiltskin asked. Both Leroy and Granny turned to him with looks of utter disbelief.

“Yeah, right,” growled Leroy. He shifted his stool back, hopped to the floor and raised his coffee. “Wish us luck. Good to see you, Mr Gold.”

He thumped Rumplestiltskin on the back before he left, whistling a catchy tune as he did. A moment later, Ruby arrived, throwing her grandmother a dirty look before placing a take-out bag and cup tray in front of Rumplestiltskin.

“Here you go, Mr Gold. One BLT, extra pickles and a side of fries, grilled cheese and hot cocoa with cinnamon.”

“Thank you, Miss Lucas.”

Stiffly, he got up, his thoughts too overwhelmed with new information to concentrate on anything he was doing. So – in this latest Storybrooke, there seemed to be a problem with criminal teenagers, and the sheriff didn’t seem to be doing anything about it. But the thing his brain couldn’t quite seem to process – painted in red letters on a solid brick wall inside his mind – was the fact that everyone was being so damn _nice_ to him. Friendly, in fact.

What in the seven hells had happened here?

* * *

 

It was a great relief to be back inside the pawnshop, to shut the door on this bizarre realm and confine himself in the relative safety of his archives, tools and the smell of furniture polish. Rumplestiltskin set the cup tray down on the counter, waited for his breath to return and his hands to stop trembling. Willpower and a baby in a stroller were the only things that had kept him from running all the way from Granny’s. The sooner he figured a way out of here, the better.

“Grandpa?” Henry’s voice sounded from the back room. “Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Rumplestiltskin replied. “I’m sorry I’m late, son.”

The curtain shifted and a teenaged boy stepped through, but it was not the Henry Mills that Rumplestiltskin remembered. This one slouched in his suit and tie, shuffled his polished shoes on the floor and though his hair had been cut short at the sides, his fringe (slicked with gel) fell into his eyes. If Rumplestiltskin hadn’t heard him speak, he would have hardly recognised his grandson.

“S’okay, Grandpa.”

“Are you hungry? There’s a grilled cheese in the bag, and a cocoa …”

“Thanks.”

Henry dragged out a stool and slumped onto it like a bag of potatoes, then non-committedly began to pick at the crusts. He didn’t look up once.

“Was there any business this morning?” Rumplestiltskin asked, feeling lost for words.

“No,” said Henry, still looking down.

“I ran into Doctor Hopper on the way here.”

“Yeah?”

“He wanted to know if you’d be coming by this afternoon.”

Henry shrugged in reply.

“Is that a yes or no?”

Another shrug. Rumplestiltskin decided to try another approach.

“How’s your mother doing?”

“She’s fine.”

“The gossipers at Granny’s tell me that some kids broke into the bakery this morning. Lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, Mr Summers seems to have vigilante justice on his mind, and I was wondering why your mother hasn’t done anything about it.”

Henry frowned. “What?”

“The town has a criminal menace on its hands, and –”

“Grandpa, Mom’s in the hospital.”

Rumplestiltskin froze. Henry’s brow had furrowed, a mixture of confusion and alarm etched on his face. So, not an elaborate joke then.

“The hospital?” he repeated stupidly.

“Yeah, for like six months.” Henry’s hand hovered over the counter as if he were about to reach across. “Grandpa, are you okay?”

“Yeah …”

The memories filled Rumplestiltskin’s head, swirling and bubbling until they formed into coherent pictures and thoughts.

_A hospital bed, Bae lying lifeless on the sheets with tubes sticking out of him and a monitor that sounded a long, continuous “beeeeeeeeeeeee …”_

_A funeral; Henry with a shovel; tipping a load of dirt into a deep hole …_

_A yellow car; a fist come up to strike him across the face …_

_Red and blue whirling lights …_

_A jail cell; a padded room; lank blonde hair and pale blue ward clothes …_

“Grandpa?”

“I’m sorry, Henry, I was asking about Regina,” said Rumplestiltskin, the new memories providing some much-needed context.

Henry didn’t look relieved, but less like he thought Rumplestiltskin was about to flip out at him. “She’s not my mom.”

“I know that. I haven’t slept and I got them mixed up.”

“Oh. Yeah, she’s fine, I guess.”

“Good. Good.”

Right at that moment, as Rumplestiltskin thought desperately for a way out of the conversation, a smell suffused the room and Gideon began to wail.

“Excuse us,” he said as Henry pulled his collar over his face in disgust. “I’ll be in the back room. Can you handle things out here for a few minutes?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Disposable nappies were a small blessing, Rumplestiltskin decided. He had Gideon cleaned and changed in a few minutes, then – with his son snuggled up in his carrier– began to search his office for clues. He found his work diary in his top desk drawer and opened it to the day’s entry:

_November 8, Saturday_

  * _Call M.T. re: clock_
  * _Dove, shipment, 1pm_
  * _Hospital, 2pm_



Rumplestiltskin’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Regina.

_‘Council session has been pushed back. Can you keep Henry for dinner tonight?’_

More memories clicked into place. Rumplestiltskin quickly sent back a confirmation and then settled into his desk chair.

So Emma was in the mental health ward. She’d been institutionalised six months ago after a violent breakdown that Rumplestiltskin shoved to one side for the time being, and Henry had been placed in the care of his closest relative, which was Mr Gold. However, he spent most of his time with Regina, who had been like an aunt to him (Rumplestiltskin laughed at the way his false memories reframed true facts). He spent the weekends with his grandfather, at the shop on Saturdays, and visited Emma at two o’clock in the afternoon after work. Doctor Hopper hadn’t yet managed to isolate the cause of Emma’s breakdown, but he believed it was related to the death of Henry’s father about a month earlier.

 _She put the Saviour in the asylum,_ thought Rumplestiltskin as he tried to figure out the Black Fairy’s motives. He knew curses, and if she had put someone in a particular position, there had to be a logical reason why. If she wanted the Saviour simply locked up, then a hidden cell in the tunnels underneath the library would have done the trick. No, she must have wanted Emma, or somebody close to Emma – _like the Author, for instance_ – to think she was insane. And if she wanted it to look like Emma was insane, then was it possible that –?

“Grandpa, Fiona’s here!”

 _Who?_ Rumplestiltskin’s extensive list of names, covering all of the important people of the Enchanted Forest and cursed Storybrooke, failed to provide an answer.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Henry!”

Of course Gideon chose just that moment to sneeze loudly, causing Rumplestiltskin to jump and knock his diary to the floor. As he bent to retrieve it, the curtain was swept back.

“Aw, hello, little Gideon.”

_It’s her._

Rumplestiltskin smacked his head on the underside of his desk. There was no time to complain, swear, or anything else unproductive; his worst nightmare was replaying itself, as clearly as the black high-heeled shoes that had just appeared in front of him on the other side of his desk. He kicked his chair back, jumped to his feet and thrust his right hand out in front of him.

Nothing happened.

The Black Fairy stared at his outstretched hand, which was mere millimetres away from her throat.

“Uh, Mr Gold –”

 _She thinks that you’re cursed,_ said a voice that wasn’t quite Rumplestiltskin’s. _Play the part._

He dropped his hand.

“I’m terribly sorry … Fiona,” said Rumplestiltskin. He winced and rubbed the back of his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s quite alright,” said ‘Fiona’, narrowing her eyes. “Are you well?”

“Well, I must admit to being rather out of sorts this morning,” he admitted as he carefully pulled Gideon’s carrier closer, and away from the Black Fairy. “I had a, uh, a rough start this morning. Quite frankly, I’m amazed I managed not to burn my kitchen to the ground.”

“I see.” Fiona chuckled sweetly and tickled Gideon on the chin. “Have you been keeping Papa awake all night, my little prince?”

“Uh,” Rumplestiltskin stammered, the urge to snap her neck suddenly mounting to elephantine heights. He managed to keep himself under control only because Fiona stopped touching his son and instead placed a picnic basket on his desk.

“I thought you might appreciate a spot of lunch,” she said as she unpacked the basket. “I made oatmeal raisin cookies – I know they’re your favourite –”

“Fiona, I, I appreciate this, thank you,” Rumplestiltskin said hurriedly. He had no idea if the Black Fairy was doing it on purpose, but he could smell chocolate cake as clearly as the day Belle had dropped into the shop with another basket, and just such a cake inside. “But, why are you here? Can I help you with something?”

Fiona stopped unpacking. “Why? Oh, you silly man, you really have had a rough morning, haven’t you?”

“Well –”

“I’m here to pick up Gideon, of course.”

_Not on my life!_

“You – you are?” Rumplestiltskin asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, sifting through his false memories.

“Of course!”

Her hand slipped into his, pulling it away from his face and he looked at her once more. For all the world, an ordinary woman. Yet all the makeup and designer clothing in the world couldn’t hide the darkness inside.

She sighed and gave him a smile. “I know the last year has been rough. I know you’re still hurting. I did too, for the longest time, when I lost my family.”

“Your husband. Your son,” Rumplestiltskin murmured.

Fiona nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re my dearest friend, Mr Gold. When someone loses their mother, I’ve always felt the need to step in and fill that void. Gideon won’t be without a mother’s love, I promise you.”

“Thank you, but –”

“And I’ll be here for my boys, just let me know what I can do.”

“– I’d like to keep my son near me today.”

“Beg pardon?” said Fiona, frowning.

“He was unsettled all of last night – vomiting, screaming, crying,” said Rumplestiltskin, the lie flowing off his tongue with ease. “Colicky, you know. He’s calm now, but I couldn’t ask you to subject yourself to that.”

“I’ve handled plenty of colicky babies before –”

“Oh, I know, but I just … want to keep him close.” Rumplestiltskin sighed and focused on the spot between Fiona’s eyes, where her nose met her brow. It wasn’t eye contact, but she wouldn’t be able to tell. He’d mastered that trick as a boy. “Just … to be sure, you know?”

Fiona let go of his hand. “Ah. I see.”

“I appreciate your offer, but – well, worrying about him, I doubt I’d be able to focus on work at all …”

“No, of course, I understand.”

“Thank you, again.”

“My pleasure, Mr Gold.” Fiona looked at her watch. “Well, I should be going. I have an interview with Miss Blanchard at ten.”

“Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

She pushed the picnic basket towards him. “Enjoy. And you will have to come around for dinner later in the week – I’ll call you to sort out the details?”

“I look forward to it.”

“Excellent. As I said, if there’s anything I can do –”

“Of course.”

Rumplestiltskin kicked the basket into a corner the moment she was gone, sparing a moment only to toss the cookies in the waste bin. For all he knew, the raisins were laced with arsenic, or worse, jubjub venom –

“Aaahhhb.”

“It’s alright, son,” he murmured, swivelling the carrier around so Gideon could see him. Gideon babbled again, a blob of white liquid dribbling from his mouth. Rumplestiltskin wiped it away and then kissed his son on the forehead. “I won’t let her take you away again. Never again.”

Then he opened his diary and picked up a pen. He had work to do.

* * *

 

It was just gone two o’clock, and all was quiet in the hospital ward. Rumplestiltskin tried not to fidget while seated on a cold plastic chair and watched the second hand on the clock above the nurses’ station. He hated hospitals at the best of times. The lights were too bright, disinfectant practically _oozed_ out of the walls and floor, and there seemed to be an infinite echo that planted earworms inside a man’s brain, growing stronger every time he set foot inside those glass doors. In the next chair, Henry slouched, completely oblivious to the world. He had earphones in and was playing some sort of game which involved a lot of button pressing on a hand-held console. The occasional ‘damn it’ was the only noise that emitted from the focused fourteen-year-old. Rumplestiltskin resisted the urge to reprimand him into fixing his posture. Once the curse was dealt with, everything would go back to normal.

He hoped.

“Henry?” called Doctor Hopper, appearing from the hallway in his tweed jacket and wire-rimmed glasses. Rumplestiltskin gave Henry a nudge. The boy looked up, realised he was being spoken to, and popped out one earphone. “You ready?”

Henry shrugged. Hopper looked at Rumplestiltskin. It said, ‘This isn’t going to go well, is it?’

“I’ll just warn you now, she’s been rather on edge today,” said Hopper as they walked down the hallway to the private visitor’s rooms. Rumplestiltskin held Gideon close, glaring at an in-patient who dared to walk too close. “She will be glad you came, though.”

“Is she still talking about, you know, the fairytale stuff?” asked Henry.

Hopper paused by the doorway, his fingers resting on the handle. “Why don’t you say hi, and we can talk about that afterwards?”

He knocked on the door and then opened it, standing back so that Henry could enter. Rumplestiltskin tentatively followed.

“Henry!”

Emma all but exploded from the overstuffed armchair in the corner of the room to wrap her arms around her son, surprising the poor boy with the strength of her embrace. Taken aback, Henry stood frozen for a moment before hugging his mother in return.

“Are you okay?” Emma said when she finally let go of him. Off to the side, Rumplestiltskin claimed one of the two wicker chairs next to a small table with flowers on it, and gave the nurse (whose nametag read ‘Anita’) a sideways glance. She looked like Rumplestiltskin felt, imposing on a private moment. “What did you do to your hair?”

“Nothing, Mom,” said Henry. “How are you?”

Emma shook her head. “No time for that. Look, is Regina here? I need you to get her and get me out of here so we can find the Black Fairy and break this curse –”

“Mom!” Henry groaned. “Please don’t do this again!”

“Do what?”

“This! All the – the fairytale crap!” He waved his arms hopelessly and then ran his hands through his hair as if he wanted to pull it all out. “It’s not real!”

It was Emma’s turn to be taken aback. “Wait, you – you don’t remember?”

Henry sighed and stepped away. That was when Emma finally noticed Rumplestiltskin, and she became a blazing inferno in under a second. “You! What did you do to my son?! You –”

The door opened and the room became a flurry of activity. Rumplestiltskin focused on keeping Gideon safe and out of the way while Hopper, Anita and a guard dressed in scrubs restrained Emma. There were words intended to calm her, and talk of sedatives. He noticed that Henry had left the room, and found him outside by the water cooler looking pensively into a half-full white plastic cup. He wore the resigned look of somebody who had gone through this experience too many times in the past. Rumplestiltskin hesitated, then reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle pat.

“Sorry, Grandpa,” Henry mumbled.

“Not your fault, son.”

Henry downed the water and chucked the cup away, but stayed where he was, leaning against the wall with his hands in his jeans pockets. Rumplestiltskin doubted he wanted to talk.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Thanks.”

As they headed for the exit, Rumplestiltskin glanced back. Hopper and the nurse stood outside the room, talking quietly. Whatever they had given Emma must have taken effect, as she put up no fight and allowed the guard to push her out in a wheelchair, presumably back to her room to sleep off the drugs. She was alert enough, however, that when she caught Rumplestiltskin watching her, she stared back with determination and stubbornness. She _knew_ he remembered. Probably believed he was working with the Black Fairy, but she knew he remembered.

And now he knew she did too.

* * *

 

Hours later, after putting Gideon down to sleep and enduring a painfully silent dinner with Henry, Rumplestiltskin grabbed his coat off the hanger.

“I have a spot of business to attend to in town,” he called into the living room, where Henry was playing a video game on the television. “Do you mind watching Gideon for an hour?”

Without looking away from the game, Henry said, “Sure.”

Rumplestiltskin fought the urge to shout. _It’s not him, it’s the curse,_ he reminded himself for the umpteenth time that evening as he tidied his scarf and brushed lint off his jacket. “I’ll be back shortly.”

There was no response.

As he drove into town with Vivaldi’s _Four Seasons_ playing on a casette tape (one of Belle’s favourites), Rumplestiltskin tried to concentrate on the road. It was a good thing Storybrooke was such a small town, with very little traffic, because he drifted into the gutter three times; distracted, thinking about his wife and where she could possibly be, what the greater purpose of the Black Fairy’s curse was, if Gideon was safe at home and whether perhaps it had been a bad idea to leave a one-week-old infant in the care of a grumpy, apathetic teenage boy –

He somehow managed to pull into the parking lot at the hospital without considerably damaging the car or breaking the law (though it had been a close call at Storybrooke’s lone set of traffic lights; he noticed the red arrow and came to a stop just over the line). There was an ambulance and a police car parked at the emergency entrance; inside, David Nolan was talking to the duty nurse and Rumplestiltskin took note of the sheriff’s badge clipped to his belt. He decided to give the man a wide berth for now, and headed for the long-term wards.

“Can I help you?” said the desk nurse, standing up when Rumplestiltskin tried to slip past without her noticing. He vaguely recognised her; there was less grey in her hair, and there were no golden-haired children following her around, but after a moment a name emerged from his memory banks – Potts, he was fairly sure.

“Yes, please,” he said, opting for honesty to start with. “I’d like to see Emma Swan.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Gold. Visiting hours ended at five.”

“It’s important.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “I see.”

A moment passed. Just as he was contemplating making a vague threat to do with rent payments and young children – and tasting bile from the thought alone – Mrs Potts’ expression changed. She picked at her cuticles, then looked around the room. “It can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’d prefer if it didn’t.”

She opened a drawer and fished out a lanyard loaded with keys and swipe cards. “I can let you have fifteen minutes.”

Rumplestiltskin gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you, Mrs Potts.”

Emma’s room was at the very end of the ward. There was a security guard on duty, which was to say that the dwarf named Sleepy was slumped in front of a monitor with footage from half a dozen cameras playing simultaneously and a cup lying sideways on the floor next to a brown coffee-scented puddle. Nurse Potts swiped a card through the reader for Room 42, which clicked and the light turned green.

“I’m just gonna give Walter a nudge,” she said, opening the door before it automatically locked again. “Fifteen minutes.”

“I understand,” Rumplestiltskin affirmed.

It was bare, even as hospital rooms went. There was an ensuite bathroom which had no door, just a curtain that could be pulled across for privacy. There was one sagging armchair in one corner, a plant growing on the windowsill – though Rumplestiltskin noted with interest that the pot was made of Styrofoam – and a few photographs stuck to the wall. They were all of Henry. And on the bed, sitting upright, was Emma.

“What do you want?” she snapped. Rumplestiltskin raised one hand in warning.

“If you attack me, or attempt to escape, I’ll yell for the guard and we’ll lose our best chance to break the curse and get your son back.”

Emma stood up suddenly. The sedatives had obviously worn off. “Where’s Henry?”

“At my house, perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He doesn’t remember.”

“Make him.”

“I can’t. _You_ can.”

Emma glared at him. But for now at least, it seemed she was listening, so Rumplestiltskin sat down on the chair.

“It seems that you and I have no choice but to work together,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part XVII, in which Emma breaks out, Rumplestiltskin is fed up, and Belle’s whereabouts are revealed
> 
> Sorry for the long wait between chapters, guys. And it's likely that it'll be a while til I get the next one up, too. Student life, gah. But rest assured that I've no intention of abandoning any of my stories - I'm gonna get these bloody things finished, just in a longer timeframe than I'd ideally like


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